


Yours or Mine?

by Noon30ish



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Babies, Domestic Fluff, First Time Parents, Fluff, Husbands, M/M, Minor Angst, Slightest bit of smut, Surrogacy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Viktor is an impulsive shopper, Viktuuri Parents, Yuuri doesn't like hospitals, babysitter!Yurio, pure sweet innocent love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-02 21:14:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 51,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8683636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noon30ish/pseuds/Noon30ish
Summary: Yuuri's had something on his mind for weeks. He wants to tell Viktor what he wants from their relationship now, something more intimate than anything they've done, but how will Viktor react? How will others react?More importantly, are they ready for this adventure?AKA the long term fic where Viktuuri become First Time Parents (TM).





	1. Are You Sure?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in like 30 minutes instead of doing my homework due in like 5 minutes... so yeah. It was too cute of a picture in my head so I have to bring you all down with me.

The sweet nothings muttered into flustered ears floated in the air as thrusts morphed into heavy, slow breaths. The space shared by the two bodies condensed with sweat was euphoric. Fingers wavered, pressing tired caresses against cheeks and noses, nails clenched and unclenched in hips and shoulders in the afterglow of release. Lowering and collapsing on a spent lover, weary bones disintegrated and muscles eased into the embrace. Arms were snaked around each other in lazy love.

Viktor took a deep breath, Yuuri's hair tickling his nose. Yuuri's breaths were mismatched with his, chests rising and falling unsteadily against each other. His weight was heavy but not uncomfortable. Viktor's hand brushed the gold ring on the other's finger and absentmindedly played with his own on his other hand. Viktor smiled at the blush that still dusted Yuuri's cheeks. He pressed his lips to the top of Yuuri's head and held them there until his neck muscles hurt from arching into the touch.

"Viktor..." Yuuri's voice was merely a quivering whisper, the silence between them comfortably shattered. "That was... you were..." _So damn tight._

"You were amazing, too," Viktor finished, knowing it was what Yuuri meant. "If I'd known you could do _that_ , I'd have let you topped way more often from the beginning." His left hand lightly dragging his nails up Yuuri's spine as his right hand gleefully pinched his nose.

Yuuri's body twisted smaller in embarrassment, pulling out slowly and groaning more from Viktor's ministrations and terrible lack of tact than the incredible sensation of cool air replacing Viktor's warmth. Viktor, chuckling, shifted under Yuuri and felt something trickle down his thigh. Sighing in admiration, he brought Yuuri back up to meet his eyes. The colors of cherry blossom tree trunks shimmered with a tinge of a cheeky smirk.

"You're awful," Yuuri nuzzled his nose against Viktor's.

Viktor hummed in agreement, a genuine smile widening. "So what was it you wanted to tell me when you came home? I was too distracted by your suit."

Yuuri's blush─ could it really have gotten more intense─ darkened his skin considerably. Yuuri had gotten home from visiting some interviewers for a special T.V. broadcast for his thoughts both one and two years after his Grand Prix win (and who he thought would win this coming season), wearing a light gray suit with a black collared shirt underneath─ that had been Viktor's. So, naturally, Viktor wanted the shirt back. Or, that had been his excuse as the rest of Yuuri's clothes came off as well.

But there had been something else that had initially halted Yuuri's progression to taking Viktor. Of course, his resistance didn't last long. Viktor had been waiting _all day_ , apparently.

It was late into the night now, though. The darkness outside was beginning to lighten with the breath of a new day. Yuuri glanced out their window thoughtfully. "I... I had something to ask─ well, maybe just to say... but it's sort of a question? Um..."

Viktor pushed Yuuri's shoulders up so that Yuuri was once again arching over Viktor and forced to look into his oceanic glare. " _Yuuuuuri_ , what is i─"

"IwanttohavekidswithyouViktor!"

Viktor's grip on Yuuri's shoulders was gone. He stared blankly upward, Yuuri's face beginning to contort painfully with each passing second of inaction. "Wha─"

"I want to start a family... wi-with you," eyes immediately turned away and shoulders shrunk, desiring to disappear under Viktor's questioning gaze. "I... I've thought about it a lot and... and I'd really like to settle down together with something of our own─"

Viktor's small fit of laughter cut him off.

"V-Viktor! Don't laugh─ sorry, I won't bring it up again, just forget it─"

Once again, Yuuri was cut off. This time, though, it was with a pair of beautifully chapped, wrecked lips. Viktor pulled Yuuri back to him, hugging tightly. "What brought this on?"

Yuuri relaxed into the hug, resting his cheek against the middle of Viktor's chest. He sighed and drew a long breath, pushing his body upward and propping himself above Viktor. "I saw you talking with a fan and their kid a couple weeks ago and when the little girl wanted a hug... you picked her up and spun her around and I just thought: 'wow, he looks so, so _happy_.'" Yuuri cleared his throat when he noticed his words were getting thicker. "I wondered if that had been our daughter... and I thought about you spinning her around and holding her hand and teaching her to skate... or maybe some Russian..."

All this time, their positions hadn't changed. Yuuri was still between Viktor's thighs. Viktor was still holding him gently and giving small kisses to Yuuri's arms that stood by his shoulders. Skin to skin contact, just moments ago sensual and trembling, was now comforting and easy. When Yuuri's voice trailed off into nothing, Viktor took a hand from Yuuri's waist to cup his face.

Yuuri saw something warm in those chilly blue eyes.

"Yuuri, why didn't you tell me sooner?" A smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and down his cheeks melted Yuuri's heart. "I want that, too."

"You're not just saying that because it's what I want, is it?" Yuuri, the confident Yuuri, paradoxically ever-doubtful.

Viktor huffed, his smile never fading. "I'm not your coach anymore─" he took Yuuri's right hand in his right hand to showcase their rings "─ remember? I want this, too. I want kids, Yuuri. And I want them with you."

Yuuri couldn't help the thickness in his throat or the slight prickle of teardrops that escaped his waterlines. Happiness built up the pressure in his chest and his feet and hands went numb from the pure amount of nameless emotion surging through him. "I'm glad..."

They fell into each other's arms again and shifted around, pulling the covers over their spent bodies and minds.

* * *

 

"So whose DNA are we using?"

Yuuri spat out his coffee, the heat from the liquid staining the front of his shirt he'd _just_ put on. "E-e-excuse me? What?!"

Viktor blinked slowly and tilted his head. "You said you wanted kids. Would they be from you or me? Oh! Or were you talking about adoption?"

 _Ah, that._ Yuuri scratched the back of his head as he set the mostly empty coffee cup down on the counter. Thankfully, Viktor was sitting at the table on the other side of the kitchen and the sunlight from the window behind Yuuri could hide his expression. "Well, I... I mean I thought it'd be nice to have a little reminder of you..."

"A 'reminder'? Yuuri, it's not like I'm leaving anywhere," Viktor put a finger to his lips and pondered. "On the other hand, I think I'd love to see little Yuuri's running around everywhere! Little piglets!" Viktor's heart-shaped mouth gaped at some wildly-concocted imagination Yuuri was sure he was having.

Yuuri walked past Viktor and playfully smacked the backside of his head as he walked into their living room. He plucked his phone from the couch's armrest and began Googling some things. "Well, whoever of us we pick, a woman still has to provide the eggs, right? How do we pick something like that?"

Viktor plodded into the living room after him, making a show of pouting and rubbing the back of his head. "That hurt."

"No it didn't."

"No, it didn't," Viktor shrugged. "I guess they have databases we could use. Or maybe someone we know could be a surrogate for us?"

Yuuri's thumb paused, hovering above his screen. The Google homepage reflected on his glasses. Who _would_ do that for them? Yuuri didn't have many friends, but the first person that came to mind was...

"How about Yuuko?" Viktor read his thoughts without trying. "You think she'd be willing to have another kid?"

Yuuri smirked. "After those triplets? I'm sure she'd kill me if I asked."

Viktor took his seat next to Yuuri and lay a comforting arm around his love's shoulder. "You'll never know if you don't try."

Yuuri subconsciously leaned into Viktor's touch. He set his phone down and listlessly glanced about their living room. The house they'd bought was out in the countryside, not far from Hasetsu, but the furniture had a different feel to it. Something more akin to Viktor's style, seeing as he'd moved everything he had from Russia. Their couch was large and overstuffed, so much so that Yuuri thought he disappeared into it every time he sat down. But it was comfortable, especially when Viktor's weight sunk them in further, devolving cuddles into shifting to find the best position which then shifted into the inevitable tickle fights. The floor was a hard bamboo covered by an equally plushy rug that Viktor had impulsively bought on the internet. The bay window overlooked the beach in the distance, gray and pleasantly still at this time of year.

Soft sunlight streamed into the room, and Yuuri envisioned the small shadow of a child disrupting the light's rays that tried to reach the floor. It wobbled around on knobby, uncertain legs, aiming for Viktor's outstretched hands and eager smile on the other side of the room. It would fall, unceremoniously, and roll over, giggling and causing Viktor to follow suit like the big baby that he already was. Yuuri would walk in and see them cuddling together and smile to himself and just feel _so lucky to have them_.

Yuuri tapped on Yuuko's name and dialed, the pink color on his cheeks mesmerizing Viktor beside him. Yuuri had a funny feeling Viktor had seen what he had thought too. Viktor was whispering a similar scenario to him, holding him close. He was telling Yuuri about the little baby that would amble around and play with their dog's tail, tripping and cooing and being _absolutely adorable_ just like their father...

"Hello? Yuuri?"

"Hey, Yuuko. How are you?" Yuuri put a hand up to Viktor's face, silently telling him to shut up. Viktor rarely listened to that, so he kept daydreaming in a quieter voice. It made Yuuri blush further.

Their conversation rambled on in various directions for a little bit before the anxiety and Yuuri's stomach reared up. "Hey, um... Yuuko? I─ Viktor and I have a question for you."

"YES I'LL BE YOUR CHILDREN'S GODMOTHER!!" Yuuko's voice was so loud that Yuuri winced, pulling the phone away from his ear. Viktor stopped speaking at that moment and stared in confusion.

"Uh, that's not quite what we were aiming for─ wait─ what makes you think we'd already have kids?!"

"Huh? Oh, well you guys are kinda private. I thought something like an adoption would've been kept pretty low profile," Yuuko mused.

Yuuri swallowed nervously and made a fist. "Actually, we were... wondering if you─"

Viktor jumped at the chance and stole the phone away from his stammering mess of a husband. "Would you have our babies?"

"V-V-VI-VIKTOR!" Yuuri's face practically exploded from embarrassment. "You can't ask it like _that!_ "

Viktor had tapped the speaker button and they could hear Yuuko's laugh─ or was that a shriek─ over the tinny reception. "So you're asking me to be your surrogate? For whose baby? Which one? Is it Viktor's?!" An inhuman screech interrupted her stream of questions. "Or yours, Yuuri? I'd be more than happy to! You know I'd do anything for you! Wait 'til I tell Takeshi─ and the triplets! They'll be so─"

"NOT THE TRIPLETS!!" Viktor and Yuuri warned in unison.

Of course, they all knew it was too late. Distant snickers could be heard over the phone call.

And yet, Viktor found himself not caring. Whether it was his or Yuuri's, whether it was a private matter or it made international news, whether he felt himself truly ready or not, he didn't care.

Viktor wanted this more than anything. He and Yuuri would be the best, proudest, most loving parents ever.

Oh, he should tell Yurio!


	2. Are You Okay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri have decided what they want to do, but it turns out to be a harder journey than they thought. And they haven't even gotten the house ready yet!

"Yuuri, sit still! They'll call us in any moment, I'm sure," Yuuko whispered, leaning in close but not quite touching the clearly nervous Yuuri Katsuki.

Yuuri nodded, his head moving less perceptively than his quivering leg. It was like the blood pumping through his veins couldn't be content with flowing calmly. He twiddled his thumbs, praying this was the worst that it would get.

They were in one of those waiting rooms with pale walls, noisy heaters, harsh fluorescent lights, thin-backed chairs, and wide open windows overlooking the townscape. The nurse would call them in and they would talk to the fertility specialist about their options. The doctor would ask about some history and information on the surrogate and the donor and they would pick their best path and the pregnancy process would begin or something and that would be it and everything would be _just fine_. Just fine. Just. Fine.

Was it the visit or the fact that, whatever they chose to do, he'd have to perform?

Not for the first time since Yuuko picked him up this morning, Yuuri yearned for Viktor to be beside him. He was coaching at the Ice Castle today, as he did all five weekdays, and didn't want to call in for a day off. He had insisted that he earn as much as possible before their lives were inevitably consumed by a beautiful but expensive and exhaustive bundle of joy. Yuuri himself only worked at the Ice Castle as a co-coach every other day or on specific showcasing or testing days for their students, and he happened to be free today. But without Viktor, Yuuri was catching himself off guard. He knew Viktor trusted whatever he decided, and that they had already discussed the best way to go about it: they would use Yuuri's sperm since he was younger. Apparently, that made his sperm healthy and more viable. Viktor had done some serious research after Yuuko had agreed to be their surrogate.

"Nishigori Yuuko?" The nurse glanced around the room as she entered.

They walked with the nurse into the room they were assigned and Yuuko answered the standard questions: date of birth, did she drink, did she smoke, and on it went. Yuuri waited patiently, some of the nerves abated for now as long as Yuuko was in charge. It was her body, her decision, and Yuuri was here for her as much as she was for him.

With all of the notes taken down, the nurse left the room to brief the doctor. Yuuko gave Yuuri a small smile and asked about how things were at home. She didn't need to ask about Viktor─ she'd seen him this morning at the ice rink and talked to him then. It was comforting to have his mind on something else and he silently thanked Yuuko.

"Good morning, Ms. Nishigori," the doctor came in, nodding to Yuuri as well, "Mr. Katsuki. I'm Dr. Shimado."

"Morning," Yuuri and Yuuko replied.

"So, I know what we're dealing with today, and it'll be a lengthy conversation, so let's just get into it, okay?" After a nod, he continued. "I'd like to know whether you were thinking of doing a full or a partial surrogacy, Ms. Nishigori."

"'Yuuko' is fine," Yuuko smiled, "and we were hoping to use my eggs, not a donor's."

"Ah, a partial," the doctor supplied, "have you been pregnant before?"

"Yes, I have triplets," Yuuko beamed, and Yuuri admired her pride.

The doctor hummed. "That is both excellent and something we'll have to be cautious about. Please, let me explain. Surrogacy is still a relatively new procedure, and as I'm sure you are aware, it comes with some risks. One of these risks is multiple births. With you having had a multiple birth, the likelihood that this surrogacy, if successful, ends with a multiple birth is very high. Is that still something the donors─ the fathers, I was told─ are comfortable with?"

With that question, he had turned to Yuuri. His fist clenched and his throat thickened. He knew he was the one that had brought up the idea of kids to Viktor, _he_ was the one that had initially wanted it (although Viktor never did say how long he'd been thinking about it, either), but he had also only thought about having one kid. At least for now. But could he and Viktor handle two? _At the same time?_ Yuuri tried to think about every conceivable outcome, every possible pathway in the dangerous forest he'd found himself in, and the ferns and trees and undergrowth only appeared thicker with every passing step. Vainly channeling Viktor, Yuuri attempted to clear his mind again. What would Viktor want?

Well, he did say he'd love to see a bunch of mini Yuuri's...

Yeah, Viktor would love having more than one.

"If it happens, we'd be more than happy," Yuuri answered the doctor, borrowing a smile from the image of Viktor in his thoughts.

"Excellent!" Dr. Shimado turned back to Yuuko. "So there are several options. There's what we call the IUI, intrauterine insemination, or the IVF, in vitro fertilization. The only difference is that the mixing of the eggs and sperm occur outside of the body in the latter treatment, and it's a bit more difficult. With how young and healthy you are, I'd suggest going with the IUI. Even better, I don't see why we'd really have to use fertility treatments. At least with this first trial. You must understand the implantation may not happen on the first try. If it doesn't, we could discuss using fertility drugs after, if you think it might be better that way.

"Of course, the same risks apply to both treatments. Multiple births, like I mentioned, but there could also be an ectopic pregnancy that results─ we'd have to terminate or attempt to move the placenta and neither are easy─ and there is the possibility of birth defects. Now, Mr. Katsuki, are you the donor, or is it your partner?"

Yuuri, who had spaced out, brought himself back as subtly as he could manage. "Y-yes... I'm the younger one."

"Still in good shape after retiring from ice skating, I assume?" Dr. Shimado smiled. "My daughter's a big fan of you and Viktor─ she's hoping to start ice skating soon."

Ah, so he knew who they were already. He probably understood, then, and Yuuri was glad he didn't have to explain more than he had to. Talking about this sort of thing still dusted some color to his cheeks. "Well, we hope she'll drop by the ice rink. We'd love to help her."

"Absolutely. You're probably an excellent candidate then─ as good as they come, really. Viktor may also be a good candidate, but I'm sure you two have discussed that already. Now, have you been tested recently for HIV, AIDS, or other STDs?"

Yuuri blanched. He'd forgotten this subject would come up. A sly smirk played on his lips, but the blush told it all. "B-both Viktor and I were... uh, virgins when we met. S-so, uh─"

"Not a problem there, then," Dr. Shimado concluded calmly and began to direct his questions back to Yuuko, something concerning her cycle.

Yuuri was grateful the doctor didn't say anything, but he could tell Yuuko was thoroughly surprised. Oh, Yuuri just knew she was going to tease Viktor about it later. And Viktor was going to immediately glare and pout at him for saying _anything_ to  _anybody_. It was certainly shocking, knowing that the "world's hottest bachelor" was actually one of the most pure virgins to ever walk the planet (although the night of the banquet that Yuuri still couldn't remember details of apparently attested to the contrary). Viktor had done a lot of work for that particular mask of his to be convincing and Yuuri was the first to take that mask away from him. Of course, it wasn't until _after_ their first passionate night that Viktor had finally told him. It embarrassed Yuuri even more, knowing he had not only topped _the_ Viktor Nikiforov but also that he'd taken the skating legend's virginity while not exactly knowing what he was doing on his end either. On the other hand, the anxiety of not living up to Viktor's sexual standards was completely relieved.

But his current anxiety was far more pressing. They were going to use him as the donor. What if what he's got isn't enough? What if something's wrong with him and he can't do it? Would Viktor be disappointed? His heartbeat thudded, pounding and drowning out the sounds of indiscernible chatter going on not two feet in front of him. If this didn't work, Yuuri wasn't sure how many more times he could keep contributing. He didn't want to fail, not once, but he didn't want to appear weak to Viktor by relinquishing his control of the situation. His eyes didn't seem to focus right and he took off his glasses to clean them with his shirt, only to put them back on and find that it was really just in his mind. Which, unfortunately, was harder to fix than fogged glass lenses.

It wasn't until Yuuko tapped his shoulder that Yuuri was brought back to an empty examination room. "Yuuri, the appointment's one week from today. I'll pick you up like I did today, okay?" Her smile was reassuring and genuine. It was going to all be fine.

* * *

Stirring the contents on the stove, Yuuri heard snow-laden boots crunch in the entryway, a gust of brisk air crawling over the back of his neck and lightly playing with his clothes. A few moments later, a weather-beaten Viktor with rosy cheeks walked in, smiling as he saw the other.

" _I'm home, Yuuri!_ " Viktor announced in Japanese, paired with a smile pleasant and warm.

" _Welcome home, Viktor,_ " Yuuri responded in kind, looking over and admiring the man before him. His silver hair was mussed and frizzed from the wool cap he'd been wearing and his breath was heavy from mild exhaustion. His workout clothing clung to his skin in funny places and his posture was weathered, but Yuuri saw beautiful, real _perfection_. Eyeing the band of gold on Viktor's hand, Yuuri still had this incredible feeling of impossibility. How on earth did he ever get someone like this?

_By drunkenly grinding on him,_ his thoughts answered him. Not pulling any punches, they continued marveling Viktor and his perfection and wondering why Viktor _wasn't_ the one donating. Clearly Viktor would have been the better choice. No one wanted a kid with Yuuri's anxiety-ridden, clumsy, _ordinary_ DNA when they could choose this masterpiece with eyes of ocean glass and the pure, trusting heart of a puppy.

But before he could fall into his own ruin, Viktor was wrapping his arms around Yuuri and nuzzling into the back of his neck, breath warm and shaking with excitement but lips cold and steady. "The appointment. Tell me _all_ about it, Yuuri. How'd it go? When are we gonna see our own mini-Yuuri in our arms?"

"V-viktor..." Yuuri shivered, leaning into his lips and wishing that he didn't already have dinner cooking. "The appointment went fine. We've scheduled the actual insemination for next week, but we won't know if it worked until probably another week or so after that. They might not work well the first time and it could take a couple tries..."

But Viktor's mind was still on 'insemination.' "Hmm. Do you think you'll need help giving them a sample?" Viktor's voice purred as his hands ran down Yuuri's thighs suggestively.

"I-I don't think that's allowed," his cheeks slowly becoming the same color as Viktor's. He could feel the pout on Viktor's face form and he smirked in return, leaning his head into Viktor and pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

* * *

 

"You know, we'll have to buy a lot of socket plugs for the outlets throughout most of the house, not just the baby's room," Viktor mentioned in passing at the restaurant they'd chosen for their monthly date.

It had been a whole month since Yuuko agreed. They'd gone through not one, but two rounds of IUI. The first time, the implantation never occurred and Yuuri just _felt_ that they could try again and it would work. They had yet to find out, but Yuuri, for once, felt confident. Viktor assured him they had time and that this time could be spend planning and getting their place ready. As if the nine months _after_ conception wasn't enough time already. But Yuuri was glad to simply listen to his love talk, especially with how animated he seemed to be about all this. He really _did_ want children, after all. Yuuri wasn't complaining.

It was quite impressive, in all honesty, exactly how much research Viktor had actually done. It wasn't just about the surrogacy process, he'd looked up a bunch of baby-proofing techniques and products and had moved on to talking about designing the baby's room and painting the room with a special paint and which colors were better for the baby's well-being and about furniture with fancy names that Yuuri had never once heard in his life. And all of it coming from Viktor's mouth was positively endearing. This kind of eye-sparkling devotion reminded Yuuri of how he looked when they were building up his free-skate program. His level composure and relaxed surety emanated from him and it bolstered Yuuri's confidence, knowing Viktor was discussing something important with him as an equal.

"Have you thought of any names yet, Yuuri?" Viktor pulled Yuuri out of his stupor of bliss.

"Huh?" Yuuri blinked. "N-no... I hadn't, actually."

Viktor tilted his head, propped up by his hand, and smiled eagerly. "I have! I tried looking up some Japanese names, but all the kanji made my head swim. I do have a list, though. Do you wanna hear? If it's a boy, I have M─"

Yuuri's phone had started ringing and he debated letting it ring since they were in a restaurant, but he saw Yuuko's name flash and motioned for Viktor to stop talking for a moment.

"Hello, Yuuko?" Yuuri answered, noticing that Viktor had perked up even more, if that were really possible.

"Hey, Yuuri, I'm sorry to call so late into the day," Yuuko's voice was low, a little rough, almost as if she had been crying. Yuuri knew that voice.  "I don't know if Viktor's with you but that's sort of what I was aiming for. Do you two have a minute?"

"We're at dinner, but you can go ahead, I'm listening," because now Yuuri needed to know what had Yuuko upset. He had an inkling, a weight increasing in the pit of his stomach, but he willed himself to wait until he had the definitive answer.

Yuuko sighed over the receiver. "I got the call from the doctor─ the results from the ultrasounds and tests and such─ and... oh, Yuuri, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

The weight grew and gravity began to take its toll.

"The IUI didn't work again," Yuuko explained, as if it were really necessary, "the doctor said we could try the fertility drugs this time, since it seemed like the eggs might not have been mature enough─ I'm sorry, Yuuri. I said I would help and I haven't been able to do anything..."

"It's alright, Yuuko," Yuuri comforted her. He knew Yuuko had tried hard to look out for him like this, and realizing it now just how much she had done so all his life, the gratitude was bittersweet. He wished he deserved this. "I'm sure they'll help."

Yuuko made an affirming noise. "I figured as much. I already gave them the go-ahead. Sorry I didn't ask you. I thought you'd be willing to try. Um, the drugs, they take 12 days to work, and then another couple of days with a different injection on top of that. Once that comes up, they'll collect the eggs and sperm at the same time. So I'll let you know when that is and we can go together again."

Yuuri asked for the date and saw that Viktor was still waiting to hear what Yuuko had told him. He thanked Yuuko and hung up. "Viktor..."

"When's the due date?" Viktor asked, too excited to think that anything else could have been said during that phone call.

Yuuri's fingers flinched in his lap under the table. "The treatment didn't work again, so we're trying the fertility drugs. I'll go in with her again when they're ready."

Viktor, suddenly sensing the change in atmosphere, laid his hand halfway across the table and beckoned. Yuuri reluctantly reciprocated, placing his clammy hand in Viktor's. His love's gold ring shined dully in between their interlocked fingers. "Yuuri," Viktor's voice treaded the line between sympathy and reassurance, his thumb rubbing against Yuuri's skin, "Yuuri, don't beat yourself up over it. When all of this is done, when we're holding our child for the first time, it'll all be worth it. I promise."

Yuuri's lips curled up sadly, understanding what Viktor was trying to do. "I know."

But three weeks later, after all of the drugs and the meticulous schedule Yuuko kept to, after the careful planning and timing of every possible outcome, Yuuri had received the third message of failure. He was at the ice rink during the intermediate group's lunch break, gearing up to give them a demonstration of the axel jump for the latter half of their coaching session. The doctor said that some eggs and sperm pairs simply didn't match up well. He offered for them to try IVF, but Yuuri needed time to think. His eyes were wide and his entire body was trembling, his skate's laces falling helplessly.

Viktor was at the opposite edge of the rink, conversing with a student that had a question for him. He was unassuming, nodding along and talking with encouraging words, unaware of the news as of yet. Yuuri didn't have the heart to tell him now, so he laced up his skates and swallowed his anxiety with a false air of normalcy.

He glided onto the ice with an ease that only occurred in someone who'd spent the majority of their life on the ice at some point. He had set his glasses on the barrier and trusted his instincts, knowing his vision was fairly unreliable right now. Viktor skated around him, done talking with the student, and called the others to gather at the edge of the ice rink. Yuuri tried to listen to Viktor's instructions for the kids, but he was preoccupied with the feeling that his skates had been glued to that particular spot in the ice, his legs unwilling to move.

"─will show you the most difficult jump: the axel. Yuuri?" Viktor's voice claimed his consciousness again and he readied himself. He started skating away, giving himself time and speed. "He'll first do the single axel jump."

Yuuri readied himself with slight tension in his legs, the familiar feeling of the jump that had always been one of his favorites building up inside. But it was just a single, so he didn't need to think too hard about it. The downfall of that, however, led his mind to wander to the phone call. The only reason he knew he landed the jump was because he heard clapping from one side of the rink.

"Great job, Yuuri!" Viktor praised him, putting on a show in front of the students. "Notice his footwork and compare it to the double─ Yuuri?"

He went through the motions again, his mind not wholly into it. He landed the jump, but it wasn't clean. No one but a professional─ Viktor, namely─ would have noticed that detail.

Viktor seemed to let it slide. He was talking about the technicality of the jump and motioning for the students to attempt recreating it as they stayed in their place, focusing on their weight and the way their arms swung. Yuuri skated his way to one end of the line of students as Viktor skated to the other, each of them offering pointers and fixing postures to whoever needed it.

"Right, now," Viktor turned toward Yuuri, a calculating look plain to see, "I won't let you guys try anything more than a single right now, but the highest ranking axel to be landed in a competition is the triple axel. Does anyone know why?"

One kid that raised her hand chirped the answer. "An axel jump rotates more than other jumps."

Viktor glanced away from Yuuri and slips his coaching mask on once again. "That's right! Yuuri here has done a triple axel often when he was competitive. I'll have him show you all one so that you have an understanding of what you'll be able to accomplish one day. Yuuri?" Viktor smiled knowingly.

Yuuri knew his emotions were caught, but he played along. He skated around the rink and prepared for the jump, knowing he could do it.

And yet, the next thing he felt was the sting of the ice on his knees, his elbows, his back, his head. Groaning, he got up and skated back around the rink. "My bad!" He had a hand behind his head and a silly smile on his face, but he knew it was worn thin.

Viktor was quick to pick up the pieces. "Did I mention he's been out of competition for two years? And an old geezer?"

The kids chuckled.

"You're four years older than me, _coach_ ," Yuuri skated around him, lightly smacking his arm and heading for the barrier door. That earned some more laughter and the attention was finally off of him.

But Viktor wasn't about to let that slide. As soon as the kids had been picked up by their parents, he stood in front of where Yuuri sat in the back of the bleachers, his skates still on but unlaced. He cleared his throat, and Yuuri looked up from his phone, his eyes glazed over.

"You flub your jumps when you're thinking, and I saw you get a phone call during break. What was it?" Viktor wasn't about to beat around the bush this time. He'd thought Yuuri would have been over this brooding behavior, but he thought wrong.

Yuuri set his phone down and sighed. "It didn't work... again. Viktor... we─ Yuuko can't keep doing this, putting all these chemicals inside her, for us. It's not good for her."

Viktor's lips were pressed in a thin line. It was frustrating, but he knew Yuuri was really blaming himself right now, and he couldn't have that. "Do we want to try mine instead?"

Yuuri's heart felt like ropes had constricted it and pulled in separate directions. He was failing them. He was failing Viktor. The trembling in his hands had stilled, numbness making his bones weary. Lines blurred even though his glasses were on and he detached himself from the emotions rising up in his throat. Without realizing it, he stood and brushed past Viktor's shoulder, ignoring the call of his name. He walked off to another bleacher and sat down, fumbling with his skates' laces and failing miserably.

Viktor watched, a hand ghosting his shoulder that Yuuri had shoved. What was it Yuuri wasn't telling him? He thought Yuuri _wanted_ a kid with Viktor's DNA. And here he was, rejecting that idea? Fingers pressing to his temple and his eyebrows furrowed, he tried to think of something, anything, to say that would make Yuuri snap out of it.

It took a moment for him to figure it out. He eased his features and took a slow breath, walking over to Yuuri again but saying nothing. He knelt in front of him and gently took the laces from his love's fingers, untying them and slipping the skate off. He didn't look into those brown eyes. He didn't have to. He just had to wait for Yuuri to open up to him again. And when he did, Viktor would be right there for him.

A single finger pad to the crown of his head told him that Yuuri was ready to talk. Viktor set the skates aside and sat next to Yuuri, attending to unlacing his own skates.

It wasn't until Viktor's skates were also off that Yuuri spoke. "Maybe we shouldn't try at all."

* * *

Viktor had racked his brain for days and decided he needed a day at the hot springs to relax. He offered it to Yuuri, but the man was distant and relatively unresponsive.  He had been ever since the phone call at the ice rink last week. And Viktor knew something was bad if Yuuri wasn't even cuddling him when they went to bed anymore. He yearned for that simple, sweet touch again. When Viktor tried to drag him to the hot springs─ since he figured that dragging always worked before─ Yuuri slapped his hand away. _Slapped_.

Needless to say, Viktor needed his own alone time.

Mari was the first person Viktor saw when he arrived. She was shoveling snow and waved to him when she caught sight of him. Walking inside with him, she made small talk and told him that the hot springs were empty today and he could go in whenever he wished.

Nodding, Viktor paused before walking into the next room. "Mari?"

After looking around to make sure no one was looking, she lit a cigarette. "Hmm?" She inhaled sharply.

Viktor thought for a moment and then spilled all that was on his mind. About him and Yuuri trying for kids with Yuuko as the surrogate, about all the failed attempts, about how Yuuri was taking it, about how _he_ was taking it, everything. At the end of his speech, a question hung in the air, but he couldn't find the strength to voice it.

Mari had already finished her cigarette, flicking the butt into a nearby receptacle. "Yuuri's taking it all out on himself again, isn't he?"

Viktor shook his head hopelessly. "I told him it wasn't his fault─ and he knows it isn't─ but nothing I've said is working. I even offered that we try mine instead, and he hasn't talked to me in a week!"

"So you're here to clear your mind and Yuuri's not?"

Viktor threw up his hands mildly. "I asked if he wanted to come with me. I tried to drag him and he snapped at me."

Mari's eyebrows rose.

"Well, not verbally. But the slap was twice as loud."

"Wow," Mari muttered in disbelief. Her brother must really be going through hell. She knew her brother hated losing, hated not having control, but one thought led to another and, well, they _were_ related after all... "You know, I wouldn't mind donating my eggs to Yuuko. You provide your half of the deal. Yuuri wouldn't have to deal with this burden as badly as he is."

Viktor just stood there, stunned. "What do you mean?"

Mari shifted her weight to her other leg. "Yuuri probably took this on wanting to prove himself to you again. He thinks if he can simply be strong on his own then he won't have to rely on you to cover up his weaknesses. He wants you to see that he can be worthy, but now he's making sure he's the only one feeling the shame because he feels like he messed up. I know this solution doesn't really appeal to his sense of control, but he doesn't need to do that for you anymore─ prove his love─ does he?"

"I would never leave him," Viktor insisted.

Mari let out a heavy sigh. "Well, that solves that, then. I'll help," she said nonchalantly.

Viktor's face lit up and his eyes shone like the northern lights as he ran over to where Mari stood and hugged her tightly, his chest close to bursting. Mari's tense composure softened as the surprise wore off.

" _Thank you,_ " his Japanese faltered.

* * *

Yuuri had gone to the ice rink soon after Viktor left for the hot springs. He couldn't face his family right now. He could barely look in Viktor's eyes when he saw how sad they had become. Yuuri scuffed up the ice. He was the one responsible for putting that pain in those eyes of sea glass. Another lazy backward circle and his thoughts churned once more.

It was late into the evening when he realized that no one was there, not even Yuuko. Strange, she usually told him when she was leaving and would ask him to lock up. He supposed it had happened enough times now that she didn't need to say anything, or maybe he had been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't heard her.

Gathering up his gear, he donned his coat and headed back home, dreading seeing Viktor.

But when he tapped his feet on the welcome mat, scattering melting snow from his boots, he realized there were two other pairs of shoes next to the door aside from Viktor's. Confused, Yuuri called out Viktor's name and walked into the kitchen, halfway out of his coat.

But it wasn't just Viktor. His sister and Yuuko were here, too. _Great_ , Yuuri thought, _an intervention. Of course Viktor would do something like this_.

"Yuuko, Mari, hello," he mumbled, placing his coat on the rack and walked toward the table, leaning his elbows on the empty chair in front of him. The others were all sitting on the other side of the table, watching him closely.

"Sit down, Yuuri," Viktor asked calmly, voice like honey. It was off-putting, but Yuuri obeyed anyway.

"What is this?" Yuuri ventured.

Yuuko, always eager to share her excitement and clearly impatient, spilled it all. That Mari would donate her eggs and Viktor would provide the sperm, that it would be both Viktor's and Yuuri's DNA (technically), that it was perfect, that it─

"What makes you think this will work any better?" Yuuri interrupted, apologizing once he realized he'd been rude by doing so. "Viktor and Mari are both older than we are, and _we_ couldn't make it work. Plus, it's a more difficult process than what we were doing. Guys, I can keep trying─"

"You don't have to do that, Yuuri," Viktor stopped him, holding his hand. "You were never at fault," he got up from his seat in between the girls and walked over to Yuuri's side of the table, kneeling down and taking a hold of both Yuuri's hands and placing them in his lap. "Just because this isn't working the way you want it to doesn't mean you're weak. You're not weak, Yuuri. You've never been weak. I know that. You know that. We all want this to succeed. Let us try. Let us _help_."

Yuuri barely had time to respond when Mari added in her thoughts. "You and Viktor deserve someone to share your love with, Yuuri."

"And we're all willing to help do that," Yuuko mentioned softly.

Yuuri's defenses finally fell with the last swing of the hammer. His hands shook in Viktor's grasp and he felt the thick tears pelt their skin unevenly. "I'm sorry," he choked out in between sobs, letting his shoulders waver and fall. Viktor stood and wrapped his arms around Yuuri, rubbing small circles into his back and muttering loving words. Yuuri hugged back, knowing that Viktor knew he regretted pushing him away this past week.

Viktor didn't care. He had his love in his arms again.

* * *

One month later there was a holiday that required businesses, like the ice rink, to close for the day, so Viktor had that day off. And the way he'd spent the previous night into nearly noon the next day was right next to Yuuri in their bed, the sheets a comfortable weight above them and the heat of their bare, sleep-relaxed bodies more natural than the chilly, early-spring outside.

Viktor had been awake for a couple hours now, but he was content to watch Yuuri sleep, all restraint in his features gone in this peaceful state. His cheeks were puffy and his hair was tossed around in all sorts of directions, and Viktor couldn't have been more smitten. He had already stolen a couple sleepy kisses before his phone began buzzing insistently.

He recognized Yuuko's name and picked it up, careful to keep quiet unless he woke Yuuri. "Hey, Yuuko. What's up?"

A few exchanged words later and Viktor hung up, putting the phone back on the nightstand. Then, shaking Yuuri awake, he spared not one moment kissing him senseless and pecking smaller ones all along his face. "Yuuri."

Still groggy, Yuuri squinted at the silver-haired smiling mess above him and hummed questioningly.

"It worked."

Sleep was suddenly far away from his mind. Yuuri's lips tugged upward by the strings of his heart and his lungs felt lighter than they had in months. Viktor was smiling so widely he thought the poor man might hurt his jaw. Tears prickled the corners of Yuuri's eyes and he leaned forward to embrace Viktor tightly, pulling them back down onto the sheets in a blissful heap of realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you I'd add more. It's sort of a large chapter and I don't plan on making all of them this long, but I do have a solid plan and I write in pretty large bursts, so we'll see what happens. Also, I didn't edit this much past one or two read-throughs, so please let me know of any typos! I hope you like it!


	3. Are You Calm?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor begin getting the room ready for their little Радость (radost'=joy).

"Yuuri! Wake UP!!" Viktor's animated voice yanked the poor man from his sleep as blankets were torn from his body, the air suddenly too cool for his liking. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" Viktor shook Yuuri's shoulders, but he just lolled with the movement, his neck loose and whipped around to the point of breaking. "We've gotta go!"

He yawned and rubbed his eyes, Viktor's fingers massaging his biceps distractedly. Blinking slowly, he looked around for his glasses only to find that Viktor was immediately holding them out for him. Yuuri was no doubt puzzled because he couldn't imagine what had Viktor so psyched up on a normal Wednesday. Putting on his glasses, he waited for his vision to adjust by glaring holes into Viktor's face. "Viktor? Why are you so excited?"

"Yuuko called," Viktor answered vaguely, "she's 10 weeks along now. She said she's even showing a little. Can I post that picture _now?_ "

Yuuri had to think about the weird request for a moment before he remembered. A few weeks ago, Viktor had insisted on going on a date to the beach. It was relatively normal for them to do that, since their house was near a private beach, so Yuuri agreed and had packed a picnic for them. It was still early in the spring and the sands would still be damp with melted snow, but he made sure to bring a thick comforter with them. Makkachin had been excited to go, but Viktor had asked him to stay home, to Yuuri's surprise. That really should have been his first clue.

His second clue was when Viktor was directing Yuuri's footsteps before they got onto the sand. _Step that way, Yuuri, and set the blanket down over there, by that rock. But lay it all down without moving your feet from where you stop. Like that! I'll do the same thing, just go on!_

Yuuri had looked at his husband like he'd grown three heads, but he complied, making sure his feet were planted _specifically_ where Viktor told him to plant them. Unfolding the large comforter, he spread it out, nearly losing his balance in the process. He set the basket down in the center and was about to turn around.

_Don't look, don't look!_ Viktor had urged, waving his hands crazily, as if they could somehow push Yuuri's head in the other direction from so far away. _Just sit down with your arm resting on your knee and I'll be right there!_ Needless to say, Yuuri was suspicious, but he decided to trust Viktor.

For some weird reason.

It was nearly two minutes before he heard Viktor's painfully meticulous footsteps behind him. Yuuri turned his head to say something but Viktor immediately told him to keep looking the other way. Peeved, Yuuri pursed his lips and worried that the food in the basket might grow mold before Viktor stopped being nonsensical. He felt an odd weight dip the comforter in the space just behind him, some kind of material barely brushing his lower back.

_Viktor? What is that?_

Viktor had paused, his hands stopping whatever work they were orchestrating. _Just 10 more seconds._ He then took his seat next to Yuuri, the basket in between them, and proffered his hand. _One more thing?_

Yuuri, knowing what the question would be, moved his hand to place it in Viktor's. Taking a deep breath, he let his eyes settle on his husband. The sunset refracted in his eyes the colors of ethereal waves. Despite all their time together─ though short relative to their time spent on this earth thus far─ Yuuri's heart still skipped a beat. Viktor clearly saw or thought something similar, because a genuine smile was focused solely on his presence. Yuuri reciprocated it.

Then he heard the unmistakable mechanical _click_ and saw the flash out of the corner of his eyes.

Spinning around, nearly knocking over the basket, Yuuri saw why Viktor has been acting so strangely. A camera on a tripod was on the edge of the grass, pointed at them. Yuuri's and Viktor's footprints were fresh and preserved in the sand. A third set of fake footprints─ they appeared to be the shape of Viktor's fists, Yuuri reasoned─ paralleled the space between them and ended at the blanket pointed toward the basket. Leaning against the basket, Viktor's back, and Yuuri's back─ the weight he'd sensed earlier─ were pairs of ice skates. The pair against the basket was incredibly tiny.

Baby skates.

_Viktor... what is all this?_

_I took our announcement picture!_ Viktor's face exuded his pride in the picture's execution. _Aren't these little skates cute? You said you wanted to teach our child how to skate, so I went ahead and bought the smallest pair they made!_ His mouth was making that heart shape again and Yuuri went soft, a lopsided smile betraying his earlier agitation with Viktor's secrecy.

_Viktor, we can't announce this sort of thing yet! Yuuko's barely 5 weeks along! Normally people don't say their expecting until at least three months..._ Yuuri was still admiring the baby skates, however, holding one up to the dying sunlight.

Viktor didn't seem too disheartened. Yuuri's eyes were shining again, and he figured he could talk his husband into it. _So will you tell me when I_ can _post it?_

_Try around ten, maybe twelve weeks._ Yuuri started unpacking the basket. _Let's eat this now, Viktor, before it gets gross._

_Okay!_ Viktor chirped, happily getting up to grab the camera and check the photo he'd taken. Yuuri remembered gasping when Viktor showed it to him. It really was beautiful. The sunlight blurred their figures in the center, but the skates were clear and crisp and the footsteps guiding the eyes right to them. The ocean glittered in the background as a contrast to the warm rays of light. How had Viktor come up with that? If Yuuri didn't know better, he would have said Phichit had given Viktor some pointers. But nobody outside their family knew about the coming addition, so Phichit was left out of the circle.

Blinking back to reality, Yuuri shook his head. "Viktor, I still think it's too early. We don't know if anything's gone wrong yet or if there are any complications with─"

"Yu _uurrii_ ," Viktor pouted, "you're worrying about it again."

"Do you blame me? We already know just about _anything_ can go wrong, and it's not too late─"

"Yuuri." Viktor huffed, silencing him. "The doctor said everything is perfectly _fine_ so far. Have some faith in them. Have faith in them, and _let me post the picture_."

Yuuri groaned, knowing he wasn't going to win, but he wasn't about to back down either. "Why don't we focus on getting the house ready. Which guest room are we converting?" They had two to choose from, after all.

Viktor's demeanor softened. "Oh, right. I was thinking we should do the one that's closest to our room since..."

The change in subject worked, almost too well. Viktor still dragged Yuuri out of bed and threw clothes in his general direction like he normally did when he wanted to go somewhere that day. Hours at the Ice Castle had started to wane again as the season was coming to a close and Wednesdays were one of the first days to go. Therefore, Viktor started having more and more free time. And a Viktor with more free time meant a Viktor that spent a lot of money.

Yuuri stumbled into his clothing, noticing it was a recent set that Viktor had bought him, and followed Viktor out the door. If Yuuri could ask Viktor to put faith in him, he could do the same likewise. With that mindset, he let Viktor take him to the nearest hardware store.

The first thing Viktor wanted to look at was paint. Yuuri, for the life of him, couldn't figure out why they would have to paint the room. The walls were already painted a faint pastel yellow that Yuuri actually didn't mind. But Viktor wouldn't have it; the room had to be completely redone from the floors to the ceiling to the furniture inside it. Of course, the furniture inside that room had been their leftover pieces they couldn't fit elsewhere like coffee tables, benches, and one ottoman that was given as a wedding gift before they bought the place. The rest of the space was occupied by boxes that they either never unpacked or had packed useless stuff away to begin with. Sure, it needed some cleaning and some rearranging, but having to repaint the walls? Yuuri didn't see the point in it.

"Yuuri," Viktor frowned, "I want this room to be perfect. Nothing less than that will do for Радость моя," he insisted, his tongue curling intimately with the foreign language. Yuuri recognized the phrase, knowing Viktor had said it to him before, but he couldn't quite recall which one it had been.

_Radost' moya..._ Yuuri squinted at the card swatches tacked to the wall, the color names too small and convoluted to bother reading. A lot of certain colors looked the same, but he wasn't sure how they would look on the wall. He plucked a few and stared at them without really reaching a conclusion.

Viktor leaned his chin onto the back of Yuuri's shoulders, humming tentatively at the prospective cards. He pointed to a red one and tapped it, saying, "I don't think we want something that vibrant. The baby would never fall asleep when we wanted it to." He picked it up and put it back in the correct holster.

Yuuri couldn't help the blush on his cheeks at Viktor's casual touches. It wasn't that that sort of thing wasn't normal, but the fact that Viktor was doing this while talking about a room for their _child_ made Yuuri feel light and fluttery. It was still nearly 6 months before they would even meet him or her, but Yuuri couldn't help the excitement bubbling up in his chest. Feeling Viktor's chest pressed to his back, Yuuri knew Viktor felt the same. Eyeing the colors he'd picked again, he put half of them back. He had a better idea of what _they_ were looking for together. He held up the last two swatches and he and Viktor tilted their heads in unison.

"The one on the right?" Yuuri lifted the card.

"I was thinking the one on the left," Viktor mused, "but maybe one of them could be the accent?"

Yuuri looked at them closer, as if that would help him decide. "So, this one," Yuuri held up one, "around the corners and windows, and this one," he put the other perpendicular to the first card, "for the walls?"

Viktor smiled, nodding curtly and hugging him closer. "Yes, I think that's perfect."

* * *

Another week went by and they had finally cleared out the room. It would have been quicker, but Yuuri had insisted that they actually go through all their stuff and figure out what they were keeping and what they were trying to get rid of. In the end, they tossed most of the boxes into the other guest room's closet without looking.

It took yet another week to paint the room. They had to go back to the store three times to get more paint─ one of the batches they returned with ended up being _slightly_ off and Viktor wouldn't have it and another trip had been to get painter's tape and large rolls of tarp after they realized it was going to be much messier than they thought. Once everything was finally set up, Viktor and Yuuri each took a brush and dipped them into the paint, swiping the first part of their new life onto the walls.

The reason this process took a week had less to do with the fact that they'd never painted anything professionally before and more to do with the fact that they got more paint on themselves intentionally. Yuuri still insisted it was Viktor who started it─ which he did─ but Viktor loved to pull his innocent puppy eyes and blame Makkachin, who was never in the room when they were painting to begin with.

Yuuri was on a stepladder, artfully brushing the streak of color onto the accents. If any of the old color was still visible, he went over it two, three, maybe four more times to make sure. Once Yuuri took on a project, he wanted to make sure he pulled it off perfectly, even if he had to learn a lot along the way. Having Viktor as a skating coach had taught him that much. He smiled faintly and kept his brown eyes focused on the task. He almost didn't feel the uninvited cool sensation on his butt─ he was wearing an old pair of really thin shorts─ that started soaking into his skin. It was dangerously close to something, which was what had caused Yuuri's balance to waver.

"V-V-Viktor!" He yelped, maintaining his position on the rickety stepladder at the last second, preventing what could have been a nasty fall. Twisting his spine, he angled himself to check the damage. The paint was slowly dripping down his leg, each passing centimeter tingled his nerves. Viktor was standing right up against him, smirking with the dangerous weapon in his hand, caught in the act.

"Want me to clean you up?" Viktor raised an eyebrow, knowing exactly where he wanted to lead this development. He dropped the brush near the bucket and held onto Yuuri's hips, helping him down from the stepladder and catching him in a kiss.

Yuuri let it slide the first time this happened, shrieking into the kiss when Viktor slapped the freshly painted behind of his husband. But after _several rounds_ occurred within the first few days, Yuuri learned he had to take the brush away from Viktor before painting the room got boring for him. It was a fun game, but it was making this whole process take entirely too long.

* * *

The room's paint had finally dried and Yuuri and Viktor admired their handiwork. The room itself wasn't anywhere near finished: the paint-stained tarp was still spread across the floor and there was still protective plastic over the window glass, but it was the first step. They simply stood in the middle of the room, Viktor's arm around Yuuri's waist, and shared the same accomplished air. The colors really did look beautiful in here. Viktor whispered similar sentiments into Yuuri's ear, adding his version of the finished result that included a third heartbeat suspended between them and a swinging mobile singing lullabies that filled the room.

Yuuri was about to kiss Viktor's cheek in fondness when the doorbell rang. Viktor, in his eagerness, let go of Yuuri and left the room before the poor man realized that his lips hadn't met the skin that had been so close just a moment ago.

He was about to walk over to the entryway to ask who it was when several men came marching by with large boxes, taking up most of the hallway. Viktor was behind them, directing them into the room they had just cleaned. Several more boxes were brought in, Viktor signed some papers, and the men left. Yuuri had been rooted in place meanwhile, stupefied.

"Viktor, who were they? What are those? We _just_ cleaned─"

"Oh, it's fine, Yuuri," Viktor waved carelessly, "it's just the crib, the changing table, the dresser, and the bassinet. I'm thinking the bassinet will stay in our room, though, so I'll go ahead and move that before we start building anything─"

"When did you buy all of this?"

Viktor blinked, caught off guard. "I ordered them when we got the news. I would've paid to have them put together as well, but then it was going to be a hassle getting them through the doorways and I wasn't sure if the room was going to be completely painted by then─"

Yuuri didn't get to hear the rest of Viktor's explanations because he'd fainted at the prospect of having yet more boxes to shove into what little free space they had left in the house. Little did he know that that was going to be the least of their worries in this adventure to create a space for their family's new addition.

First of all, neither of them could read the directions on the furniture. It appeared to be a European language, but it wasn't one that they recognized. Second, Viktor had taken out all of the pieces to the crib and the changing table at the same time, mixing all of the screws and boards together. Third, _Viktor_ forgot where he had placed their screwdriver─ or any of their tools, for that matter. After several trips to the hardware store (Viktor had gotten the wrong type of screwdriver the first time around so Yuuri took it upon himself to get the proper tools), Yuuri attempted to translate the directions from his phone. It didn't help much, but he at least managed to look at the pictures and separate the different furniture pieces correctly.

About half an hour into this mess with no progress to show, Yuuri had had it with Viktor's antics. The flippant, joking Russian wasn't permitted to help unless Yuuri was _very_ specific.

"Viktor, I need, uh... A5," Yuuri squinted at the directions, his glasses twirled around by his free hand in frustration.

Viktor didn't answer. Yuuri looked up and saw that Viktor was pouting, scrolling through some feed on his phone and pointedly ignoring him.

"Viktor, I said─"

"I know what you said," Viktor muttered, defeated. "I'm not allowed to touch anything, remember?"

Yuuri pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just pass me A5?"

A block of wood smacked his shoulder and landed next to where he was sitting. It wasn't a harsh throw, but it wasn't playful either. Yuuri put his glasses back on─ he wouldn't have been able to see Viktor's expression well even though they were barely four feet from each other─ and stared.

Viktor was glaring back. "Let me help."

Yuuri stayed firm. "You keep messing it up."

"I don't keep messing it up," Viktor insisted, tossing his phone aside in a less tactful manner, "I just organize it differently."

"You were _using them as building blocks_ ," Yuuri enunciated, grabbing the piece Viktor had thrown and shook it in his direction with each word, "and making _forts_ out of them. That's not organizing."

Viktor crossed his arms, petulant. "You don't want my help, so I'm not helping."

"You _bought_ all of this─"

"Because I thought you wanted _this_!" Viktor interrupted a little too harshly. The atmosphere, Yuuri realized, was much darker.

They sat in silence for awhile. It was a stupid argument, and they knew it. Stresses had been slowly piling up on each of them for the past couple weeks. The skating season was at its close and Viktor was working less. Yuuri hadn't picked up more hours at his other seasonal job in the next town over yet and although money didn't seem to be a concern to Viktor, they both felt that they should slow down on the spending.  There also turned out to be a lot of baby-proofing to do. Whole sections of the house had to be rearranged and cleaners had to be switched out and so many small supplies that no one would think twice about had to be bought multiple times over. They were also receiving weekly calls from Yuuko regarding the progression of the pregnancy. If the call was even a few hours off, they worried that something had happened. Yuuri especially lived with the poignant fear that there would be a miscarriage or that Yuuko's health was in trouble. Add all of this together with building foreign furniture and it was no wonder they felt like they were at each other's throats.

Yuuri clenched and unclenched his fist, his jaw set tight despite willing it to relax. Viktor crawled over to behind where he sat and leaned around, silently asking for permission. When Yuuri nodded, Viktor pulled him into his lap and embraced his love with more emotion than he had faith in himself to say outright. Yuuri exhaled heavily, leaning into Viktor's touch in an equally silent response. For a few minutes they just sat there, melding into each other and becoming a singular mess with one heartbeat. Viktor, after staying still for so long, absently pressed his lips to the junction between the back of Yuuri's neck and his shoulder.

" Радость моя," Yuuri muttered, looking at all they had accomplished─ and not just with the room they were in right now but with everything since they met, amalgamated into this one moment─ and pondered. "That means 'my joy,' right?"

"My joy..." Viktor affirmed. His lips still attached to Yuuri's skin. His heart had skipped momentarily.

Their phones dinged simultaneously with several notifications. Yuuri felt Viktor's muscles tense in apprehension.

Yuuri unfurled himself from Viktor and grabbed both their phones, handing Viktor's to him. He seemed hesitant to check what the notifications were about, but Yuuri wasn't paying attention.

He was staring at the picture that he was tagged in on Viktor's Instagram. The picture he'd taken of them at the beach with the three pairs of skates and the footprints. Likes and comments were pouring faster than his phone could beep and he had to silence it just so he could articulate his thoughts to himself. Under the picture, _v-nikiforov_ wrote: _Does pair skating allow more than two? Because we're adding another skater to our routine. <3_

The blood rushed to Yuuri's cheeks and he had to remind himself to breath. "Viktor... you posted it."

"I'm sorry," Viktor had pocketed his phone and was massaging Yuuri's lower back next to him, "I know you wanted to wait... but this was the only thing I could think of that would take the stress off your mind. You and I both know we can't wait for that moment to come... You just need to be reminded sometimes that you're not doing this alone. You need to let me help─ we're _both_ going to be raising this child. I know it's hard, but I promised you," Viktor picked up Yuuri's ring hand and brought it to his lips, "when I put this ring on you that I would stay by your side. That's not changing anytime soon. Ever, Радость моя."

Having scrolled through several hundred comments, Yuuri kept himself grounded by listening to Viktor's words. He set the phone down and allowed brown eyes to meet blue for the first time since they started arguing. This Viktor, the Viktor that was unconditionally in love with him, was surreal and hard to believe, especially when Yuuri was the only person in the whole world to know this side. But looking at him now, kissing his ring, Yuuri knew that this small bump in the road wouldn't matter in the long run. And Viktor was right─ the picture did alleviate the stress. People were congratulating them left and right, even if only through characters on a screen. Yuuri felt that it validated his efforts─ his _and Viktor's_ ─ to become stronger with each other. It was a constant learning process for both of them, and Yuuri was now certain that they'd pull through this one just like they had all of their previous challenges to date.

With that thought warming his body, his phone started ringing. Both of them looked down and saw that Phichit was calling. Oh no.

Yuuri cleared his throat and answered. "Hey, Phi─"

"CONGRATS ON THE BABY GUYS WHEN CAN I COME SEE HIM OR HER ARE THEY CUTE I NEED PICS STAT NEVER MIND I'LL JUST VISIT LEMME LOOK UP TICKETS─"

"Phichit!" Yuuri whined, the sound of which made Viktor chuckle. "Calm down, please. The baby's not here yet. 6 months left."

"Oh," Phichit paused, "I can't believe you kept something like this from me! Tell me EVERYTHING, Yuuri!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I write these fairly quickly once I have the plan set so this isn't really proofread. Please let me know if you find anything!
> 
> I wanted to draw the announcement picture and add it in, but I'm slow with drawing and it's a picture I'm not confident I can make look as good as I see it in my head. That being said, I do have a wip of a later scene I have in the fic and will post that one. :)


	4. Are You Going To Find Out?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor impulsively buys things on the internet.

When Yuuri opened his eyes, the weak sunlight that streamed through the curtains straight to his face told him it was time to stop being lazy. Grumbling, he squeezed his eyes tighter and curled the other way, arm stretching to drape over Viktor's gentle frame. But it fell heavy onto the sheets. He sat up and the sheets pulled against him, pleading for him to go back to their warm embrace. So much for trying to get all the sleep he could for the 5 months they had left.

Padding the side of the bed where his muscles remembered placing his glasses the night before, he leaned over to accommodate his poor vision and realized they were nowhere to be found. Huffing, he rolled to the very edge of the bed hugging the wall and shoved an arm down the space in between. Fingertips brushed the familiar frame and he heard a soft clack of the glass shifting away from his grasp. A few more tugs and pushes at the mattress and he was able to bring the glasses back to the surface.  That should have taught him not to leave them on the bed when he slept, _especially_ with Viktor's excitement for the next day spilling out of his passionate ministrations, but perhaps it was because Viktor was excited that he'd forgot his own advice momentarily.

Viktor never told Yuuri why he was excited about today in particular, but since he did not stay in bed with Yuuri until he woke up, Viktor must have gotten ahead of himself. Yuuri figured he would find out soon enough and sauntered unsteadily to the closet, rubbing the sleepiness away from underneath his glasses.

An audible gasp and a slightly lower "so cute" caught his attention from the next room over. Yuuri didn't think anything of it, although he was curious. After getting dressed, he walked into the kitchen. Some open boxes from the mail were on the table. No Viktor. A little more curious but not necessarily concerned, he grabbed a glass from the cabinet and poured himself some water. His throat was dry and pasty and no doubt his voice would sound rough if he tried to speak right now. Viktor really didn't know how to go easy on him.

A small giggle coming back from the other direction told Yuuri that Viktor was in the baby's room. His curiosity finally taking over, Yuuri set his glass down and went to see what Viktor was up to.

The sight he walked into was a mess. Granted, the room was still a mess after they'd finished building half the furniture last month, but this was a new mess. Coupled with the unfinished changing table parts were now open drawers from the new dresser and lots of clothes scattered everywhere─ if there was a method to this madness, Yuuri didn't see it.

Wait.

These were baby clothes.

"Viktor?" Yuuri called from the doorway, his hand tentatively bracing against the frame. "What's all this?"

Viktor, whose back had been facing Yuuri, turned at the sound of his voice. "Oh, Yuuri. You're awake. Come here, come here! They came in!"

Yuuri put two and two together as he came up beside Viktor in front of the open dresser. "You bought our baby clothes already? We don't even know the sex of it yet."

Viktor pulled up a onesie and unfolded it. A deep blue with small caricaturized ice skates covered the entire body, while the arms and legs and feet were white. It was cute, and Yuuri couldn't help picturing it being filled by a small being with big eyes and pudgy features. Imaginary cooing sounds completed the imagination.

"You can see it, too, can't you?" Viktor said softly, his voice smooth as satin. He folded the piece reverently and put it into the drawer. He reached for another piece and folded it neatly as well.

Yuuri hummed in agreement, but saw something else among the mess Viktor had made. "Did you buy dresses?"

"Of course," Viktor smiled, "we might have a girl. Well, even if it were a boy, I'd put him in a dress since we have some already. When he was old enough, I'd let him choose if he wanted to wear it. Until then, his fashion choices are mine."

A small laugh escaped Yuuri's lips. "Well, Yuuko's ultrasound is coming up soon, so we'll know what the baby is─"

"I don't wanna know!" Viktor's indignant whine cut Yuuri off. Yuuri stared at him, mouth still forming the words he had been saying. When Viktor realized how rude he had been, he apologized. His head down, he looked at Yuuri through his lashes with a sad expression. "Did you really want to know, Yuuri?"

Yuuri thought about it for a moment. Was there a reason to know? He wanted to be able to have a name set in place, and knowing the sex would make that whole process a lot faster. But aside from that... "Well, I guess not. It doesn't really matter. I just thought it's what everyone... did... or wanted to find out."

"Well, whatever you decide, don't tell me after Yuuko's appointment," Viktor requested.

It took a few more items of clothing being folded before Yuuri realized the meaning behind what Viktor asked.

"You won't go to the appointment with us?" Yuuri turned his head to look at Viktor directly, his eyes searching for some sort of answer that Viktor hadn't given yet.

Viktor's lips thinned and he put a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it awkwardly. "It's... not that I don't want to. It's just, in Russia, the men don't really go to these appointments. They barely get involved at all, so I thought I was already sort of overstepping my line." He looked to all of the clothes with a forlorn look in his eyes.

Yuuri soaked up Viktor's words, and with every passing second he increasingly felt like he'd been insensitive. Viktor had lived with Yuuri in Japan for so long it was easy to forget that he had grown up in an entirely different culture with different customs. Of course Viktor didn't look Japanese at all, but he was familiar and being so close to him all the time meant that certain differences went unnoticed. No wonder Viktor hadn't gone to any of the appointments so far: he didn't think it was his place to be. Appalled with himself, Yuuri opened his mouth to speak again, but Viktor beat him to it.

"It's fine, Yuuri," Viktor reassured him with a hand on the small of his back, "I don't mind." Viktor paused and put his hand back onto the pile of clothes, simply laying it there as he contemplated something. "If you want me to go, and if Yuuko's okay with it, I'll go."

Yuuri really wanted that, but he pulled out his phone to check his appointment calendar. He frowned. "It's on a coaching day."

Viktor exhaled and shrugged. "Probably for the best. If they asked me if I wanted to know, I'd probably cave. Just promise me that if you find out you won't tell me?"

Yuuri nodded slowly. He was about to walk out of the room to leave Viktor to clean up his mess.

"Even if I beg?" Viktor asked as Yuuri reached the doorway.

Yuuri turned around and raised an eyebrow. "Viktor..."

"Promise me, Yuuri!" Viktor pouted, his hands were fists but since they were holding more baby clothes it appeared more comedic than he probably intended.

A roll of the eyes. Was Viktor really going to be this way? He didn't make a lot of sense all the time. Sometimes his Russian made more sense than this. "If you're going to change your mind then let's just find out─"

"No!" Viktor practically leaped over the wreck of a room and clamped his hand over Yuuri's mouth. "I know that I don't want to know, but I'll be curious if I know that you found out! Just promise not to tell me _anything_ , okay?"

Yuuri peeled Viktor's fingers away from his face. "Anything?"

"Anything," Viktor insisted.

Yuuri's nod was sure this time. "Okay, promise."

Later that day, Yuuri's mother dropped by the house for a visit. It wasn't often that she got to leave the hot springs, so Yuuri scrambled around the house apologizing that he didn't know sooner, that he would have cleaned up more, that he would have had food ready, that─

"It's quite alright, dear," Hiroko had her hands up defensively, "I forgot to call. I just came by to drop off some of your and Mari's baby clothes. I can't leave your father alone to tend to the hot springs for too long."

"That place really would fall apart without you," Viktor complimented as he walked into the kitchen. "What's this about baby clothes that were once worn by my Yuuri?" He already had a sly smile on his face.

"Oh, Vicchan, it's good to see you. How are you?" Hiroko went over to the box she'd brought in and began opening it, putting the contents on the table.

Yuuri felt the color on his cheeks like flames. He ran toward the space between the box and Viktor, desperately trying to hide the potential embarrassments contained within it. When Viktor tried to lean right, Yuuri mirrored him. Viktor tried to fake him out and Yuuri began waving his arms sporadically. "D-d-don't look! We've got enough clothes, really! Mom, he bought a bunch of clothes already. A-and we don't know what we're having yet! D-don't─!"

"Oh, Yuuri, let him look!" Hiroko chided her son. "I think he deserves to see every bit of who you were; it's what made you who you are."

"My _clothes_ didn't do any of that!" Yuuri reasoned, knowing his mom was making up excuses and that he was going to lose this argument. He just wanted to stave off the embarrassing pain as long as possible.

Viktor walked around Yuuri, who had finally given up, and rummaged through the box. There were all sorts of colors and sizes, fabrics and buttons. He struggled to keep his smirk as small as it was. He hadn't seen many pictures of Yuuri when he was little; only the picture with his poodle and one or two that were framed on the walls. And those had still been when Yuuri was a kid, not a baby. This glimpse into Yuuri's past was enthralling: he could see the story they told. Yuuri must have always been a little shy because a lot of the clothes were long-sleeved and conservative. The last one he pulled out of the box was a shirt that was blue with yellow sleeves, a giant yellow "Y" stitched across the chest. At the sight, his smile widened. He folded that one─ he hadn't folded or even taken out any of the others─ and set it aside on the chair beside him.

"We'll take them," Viktor decided, earning a groan from a poor Yuuri who knew he was going to get his cheeks pinched later, and not in the good way. "Thank you, Yuuri's mom."

"You know you can call me 'mom' as well, Vicchan," Hiroko bowed and turned to her son. "I've got to head back to the hot springs now. Do you know when the ultrasound is?"

Yuuri nodded. "Yuuko said it's on the 14th."

Hiroko somehow seemed even more excited. "Do let me know how it goes! I can't wait to see my grandchild," and she was off in her dream world.

"We'll do just that, have a safe trip home!" Viktor spoke for Yuuri, who was hiding the incredibly adorable blush behind his hands.

Little did they know, Hiroko had snuck Yuuri's baby book─ complete with _many_ pictures─ into the bottom of the box. Yuuri wasn't going to live it down.

* * *

Once again, Yuuri found himself alone with Yuuko in a hospital room. Despite having gone into a hospital more times now than he had in his entire life, the constant humming of vents and machinery paired with bare, sterile walls unnerved him. His right leg shook, a common tick of his, and he let it bounce distractedly. Yuuko was lying back on the bed, the thin paper underneath her crinkling with the slightest movement. Her stomach at 18 weeks─ nearly halfway there─ was distended. Yuuko had already shared her thoughts on what it would be. Since she was smaller than what she was at this point in time with triplets, she reasoned that there _definitely_ wasn't another set of triplets inside her. She welcomed the idea that she'd only have to deal with one-third the labor time. And while Yuuri nodded along to her one-sided conversation, there was nothing he had control over in this situation. Nothing, except that one decision.

Did he want to know what they were having?

If he did, he'd have to keep that secret from Viktor. But Yuuri knew he'd accidentally let it slip somehow. If not with explicit words, then probably in the way he prepared the house or acted in response to Viktor mentioning something that would be different from what Yuuri knew. Secret keeping wasn't necessarily a weak point of his, but this sort of thing wasn't anything like he had done before. So, okay, he was a little anxious about that. He could always say that he didn't want to find out. Then he'd have to come up with two names possible names. Only two. Not so bad. But Viktor would probably have two of his own, and they'd have to pick one name from those four.  If he knew, it would only mean two fewer names, but that would be easier. But Viktor didn't want to know, which would mean that Yuuri would have to keep the name he'd chosen as another secret. And he'd already done enough secret-keeping from Viktor to know he didn't want to continue that habit.

But what if the doctor, while looking for that, found something else? A problem that would require them to start all over again. Yuuri couldn't do that to Yuuko, and he couldn't handle having to tell Viktor. He could already feel preemptive tears prickling the corners of his eyes and he had to blink them away. He was being ridiculous and he knew it. The uneasiness didn't abate, but at least he kept his breathing even.

The doctor came in and welcomed them, chatting idly as she set up the equipment. She asked Yuuko to lift her shirt over her stomach so that she could apply the liquid for the ultrasound. As Yuuko did so, Yuuri looked away, only to steal glances that eventually turned into him watching on as the pictures began to show up on the screen. It was the first time he'd seen Yuuko's stomach─ well, technically the only time, but Yuuri hadn't thought about that─ and he could really tell now that there was a growing baby. His heart lurched, but not in the usual anxiety-ridden way. It lurched with hope, with another burning realization that _this was real_ and that his and Viktor's new life was this much closer to being in their arms. If Viktor were here, he'd have caught on to how Yuuri was feeling. Then Yuuri thought, would Viktor's heart be tugging in the same way? Yuuri didn't know how the Russian would take in this sight. He didn't really know a whole lot. He was still learning something new about Viktor every day, and yet here he was, at a hospital waiting to see the first pictures of their child.

New doubts washed over him anew.

"Do you want to know if they're boys or girls?" The doctor smiled at them sweetly, pulling Yuuri out of his thoughts just in time.

Yuuko glanced over to Yuuri and beckoned him closer. He stood reluctantly and walked to the side of her bed. "Well? It's your decision, Yuuri, what d─"

Yuuri and Yuuko stared at the doctor as together they discovered what she had just said.

"T-t-they?" Yuuri stammered out in disbelief. His previous doubts were forgotten for the moment. They? They. 'They' meant more than one. Definitely more than one. Meaning not just one child that was his and Viktor's. But two, at the very least.

"Oh, you're having twins!"

Okay, yup, two. Two. The number swam in Yuuri's head. Was he elated or frightened? Both. Probably.

Yuuko, sensing Yuuri's inner turmoil, shook her head to the doctor. "They decided that they didn't want to know the sex, if that's alright."

The doctor tapped some buttons on the machine that printed out the best picture they had gotten. "Okay, that's just fine. I'll still give you a picture─ would that be one or two?"

* * *

The picture never left Yuuri's hands the entire ride home. He felt bad that his fingerprints were getting all over the film, so he attempted to hold it more delicately with little luck. The gray and white shapes in contrast with the black made absolutely no sense to him. How on earth the doctor and Yuuko could make anything out of what belonged in a Rorschach test Yuuri would never know. Hopefully Viktor wouldn't be able to see it, either, because he wasn't sure he could hide this from him even if he tried. After Yuuko dropped him off, Yuuri saw that their car was gone; Viktor was still at the ice rink. He thought about meeting him there, but it was a Friday and he usually had the kids go home early on Fridays. It made Yuuri a little jealous because _he_ was never allowed to end practice early on a Friday. The circumstances were mildly different, but Yuuri ignored that information.

Once inside the house, Yuuri stuck the picture on the fridge, clipping a magnet to keep it in place. Maybe he should buy a new baby book. Well, he'd need two now, wouldn't he? Perhaps he'd ask Viktor to go shopping with him over the weekend for odds and ends that were still on their list. His fingers and toes were tingling. Would this feeling subside when they brought home the newborns? Yuuri wasn't sure.

Yuuri had dinner nearly ready and on the table when Viktor came through the door. Apparently the kids wanted to keep practicing today, and his stamina had run out hours ago. He stretched, his arms touching the ceiling and his back arched, shifting from side to side. A couple bones cracked and he moaned about growing old. Yuuri was going to say that Viktor was only 31, but knew better than to bring that number up. Viktor walked over to Yuuri, intending to hug him, when he saw the picture of the ultrasound on the fridge. His eyes perked up and he grabbed it to get a closer look.

"I almost forgot!"  Viktor said, still breathless. "Yuuri, how'd it go? Is this our little one?"

The rosy color on his face brightened. "Y-yeah, about that... it went fine. Uh, Viktor? Did you really not want to know _anything_ abou─"

"Absolutely nothing," Viktor smiled as he traced the outlines in the picture with is pointer finger slowly. Admiration sparkled in his oceanic eyes and for a moment it seemed like he had said nothing at all. Viktor held onto the picture like it was his lifeline, and Yuuri was torn.

Should he say something anyway?

"Let's eat, then," Yuuri smiled, his eyes closing so that he didn't somehow give it away. Viktor didn't question it and put the picture back on the fridge, giving it one last longing look before sitting at the table.

After dinner, Yuuri and Viktor were standing hip-to-hip at the sink. Viktor was soaking and scrubbing the dishes one by one, handing them to Yuuri's awaiting hands to dry them and put them away. It was a ritual they'd done a hundred times before and needed no words between them. It was in the way they passed the dishes to each other. When Yuuri passed a plate back to Viktor, something dirty still stuck to it, Viktor knew exactly where it was without Yuuri telling him where. When Viktor passed something to Yuuri, the rotation of his wrist let out a thousand words, each one taken in by Yuuri without exception. When one of them leaned against the other, fatigue from a long day taking over, the other rose to the occasion, becoming a steady anchor for their love. Tonight, Viktor leaned rather heavily onto Yuuri's shoulder, his hands braced against the edge of the sink. He'd turned off the faucet and the silence was deafening.

"Yuuri," Viktor muttered, "you found out, didn't you?"

"Huh?" Yuuri jumped at Viktor's voice, then again when the question registered. "N-no! No, I didn't─"

"You _did_ ," Viktor prodded, his hair tickling Yuuri's cheek, "your eyes are shining like you've got something on your mind. Like you're debating or searching for an answer."

Yuuri opened his mouth and closed it again. He'd been caught up in making sure _not_ to say certain things recently that his jaw was starting to hurt from all the indecision. "W-well..."

"Ah-ah," Viktor wagged a finger in front of Yuuri's face, "I said I didn't want to know."

Yuuri clenched the towel in his hand a little tighter. Viktor was being unreasonable. But then again, he was admitting to watching Yuuri, and that still made his heart flutter. "I-I know, but─"

"You're mean, Yuuri, keeping secrets from me." Viktor's voice purred with the next sentence. "Do you think if I beg for it, you'll tell me?" A soapy hand ghosted its way to Yuuri's lower back and further, the warm water soaking his shirt and then his sweatpants...

"We're going to have to buy a second crib." Yuuri wanted to mention quickly, but his face had deadpanned. It was the only way he was going to 1) get Viktor to stop teasing and 2) halt the hand that was slowly soaking his ass.

And 3) surprise him. Viktor loved surprises.

The seductive facade that Viktor had been wearing was effectively shattered, falling to the floor without a sound. He'd dropped the sponge he'd been using and his hands were at his sides, stiff and trembling. Eyes wide and lips parted in what could only be described as a gape, Yuuri wished he could take a picture. It was in rare moments like this when he could catch the poor Russian off guard that he relished. But Yuuri's mind was also still catching up to what he'd just said. No doubt Viktor's realization was sinking in, too.

"T-twins...?" Viktor came to the conclusion with a shaky whisper. Yuuri swore that the Russian's glass heart was cracking if it wasn't breaking apart already.

Yuuri nodded, encouraging Viktor while waiting for a reaction.

"Twins..." Viktor was a broken record. The corners of his lips twitched before pulling upward all in one go. And if Yuuri wasn't mistaken, he saw Viktor's eyes watering, too. "Twins!"

"Yes," Yuuri choked on the word, suddenly finding out that he wasn't the only one holding back emotions. "Is that okay, Vik─"

"Of _course_ it's okay!" Viktor's entire body loosened up and he enclosed Yuuri in the strongest embrace possible, and then tighter. Yuuri could feel the intense heartbeat that thudded deep in Viktor's chest, that echoed throughout the places where their skin touched. Viktor's entire body was shaking with an energy he hadn't had since the start of that day's skating lessons. His face was buried into Yuuri's shoulder, his breath hot and uneven against Yuuri's neck. Yuuri reciprocated the hug once he felt like he had better control of himself again and returned his feelings tenfold.

After a minute, with none of the side effects ebbing, Viktor pulled away from Yuuri, still holding him. His eyes were pools of mirth. "We're having twins..."

Yuuri nodded and hummed agreement. Hearing Viktor say it was the best thing in the world. It grounded him, cemented the fact that this was _real_.

And if it wasn't, if it truly was a dream, Yuuri didn't want to wake up.

Neither did Viktor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a set schedule for this story but the chapters are written as soon as I have the time. I took quite a bit of time to draw instead, but you'll see it when we get to chapter 7. ;)
> 
> As always, please point out anything wrong grammatically since I don't really edit these that closely.
> 
> I don't think I'm ready for episode 12. Help.


	5. Are You Excited?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri may not have asked for a baby shower but skaters have a way of showing their love.

Once again, Viktor was out of bed earlier than Yuuri. He noticed by the way the cool sheets beside him met his face as he rolled over. A frown wrinkled his sleep-rested face and he groaned. Viktor almost always left the bed before he did, but usually he would wait until Yuuri had some semblance of consciousness so that he could kiss the newly awakened sleeping beauty (or that was what Viktor had called him, which Yuuri believed to be hilariously inaccurate). The only exception had been getting up for work at the ice rink during skating season or if he had something on his mind. Even for the latter, Viktor would come back before Yuuri awoke. Yuuri could still tell that Viktor had left by the way he smelled or looked─ he almost always walked along the beach if what he wanted was some proper thinking time alone and came back with salt spray infused into his clothing or soaking his hair. To be honest, it was pleasant and it took any concern off of Yuuri's mind about Viktor's reasons.

If Viktor ever had anything important to say, he'd say it. They had learned long ago that they needed to communicate better. Sure, that was easier said than done, but they had come a long way from where they were. There were still problems here and there, some motivations left misunderstood, but they counted on each other to stick around and talk it through eventually. That was probably why they worked so well together. And yet, people commented that they were moving along rather quickly.

The more Yuuri thought about it in his half-conscious state, lying snug in between the mess of sheets and pillows, the easier it became to see all the ways it could have or even _should have_ gone wrong. Although Yuuri hadn't thought it through entirely, they had been engaged within a year. No matter how much Yuuri tried to deny it or talk Viktor out of it, the Russian's stubbornness won out. Stubbornness and outright melodramatic romanticism. Even Yuuri, emotionally dense Yuuri, could tell that Viktor was a hopeless romantic. Some days he still wasn't sure what he did to deserve such treatment, but he never wished to be without it. So, in the end, he made the engagement official and was welcomed by a series of flying hugs and butterfly kisses and sweet, sincere touches of the lips. Viktor had been so visibly excited that all of those could have happened at once if he wasn't a stumbling mess─ a surprising side of Viktor that no one had seen until then. His face had been pure elation and although he didn't cry, his voice was soft and one note away from breaking from the influx of _My Yuuri_ 's and _I'll do my best_ 's and _I'll stay by your side forever_ 's and a slew of Russian phrases that Yuuri could only guess at what they meant.

Yuuri liked to replay that scene in his head. Of all the scenes meticulously recorded by his anxiety, this one kept even the worst nightmares at bay. Neither of them showed their emotions well, or in the same way at all, so seeing something so different had easily imprinted itself. Having a piece of Viktor that no one else did was a happy reminder that Yuuri had Viktor's heart. He was content to hold it up, to reach higher for it, to give it the light of the world, because he knew Viktor had been doing the same since the Russian had become his coach. They were truly stronger for each other now.

And, of course, one thing led to another and after winning gold, Yuuri and Viktor knew it was time. They had the ceremony back in Japan─ at Viktor's suggestion, interestingly─ with close friends and family. If, by close friends, Viktor really meant practically all the skaters they had come to know and appreciate over their skating careers, then yes, it was a wedding with close friends.

It was also a day Yuuri would never forget. His heart had been bursting that day with every second Viktor's eyes had been on him or his eyes on Viktor. And that had been just about the whole time. Yurio would have been making barfing noises almost constantly if Otabek hadn't distracted him with an offer to go get some food at the table on the opposite side of the reception.

If Yuuri was being honest with himself, his heart was still close to bursting. It was a little pathetic, he reasoned, since they really had been together for awhile already. Everyone said the passion ceased at some point and that feeling of your heart racing would eventually mean you had a medical condition rather than just being so painfully attracted to someone physically and emotionally. But, as far as Yuuri could tell, that day hadn't come yet. And he hoped that it never did. He did sometimes wonder if it had died down for Viktor, but every day his husband reminded him otherwise with anything from casual touches and caring, private words to grandiose gifts and (Yuuri's cheeks heated) mind-blowing sex.

Apparently that was supposed to die down too. Hmm. Hadn't happened yet. Maybe Yuuri was just extraordinarily lucky.

Yeah, he could _definitely_ settle for that.

But soon they were going to be having children. Twins. And he had heard from Yuuko how little personal time she had after having the triplets. But, more than that, when Yuuri looked at it objectively, he could see how some people thought it was a little sudden. The marriage only happened two years ago. In Japan, that would have been considered a long time between beginning a marriage and starting a family. But since they were both skaters at the end of their prime, Yuuri figured that it was about the right time. He'd never exactly pictured himself as ever having kids of his own, but... his love for Viktor seemed to be so great that it hurt. It hurt, and he wanted to share it, but he couldn't just share this love with anyone else. It barely sufficed to share this love on the ice. Sure, the love they shared was complete. It didn't need more added to it. But with so much between them, having another heartbeat beside them was a welcoming image to Yuuri.

But, once again, he hadn't communicated that to Viktor. In truth, he'd been thinking about kids since he placed the wedding band on those slender, pale fingers. It took actually seeing Viktor interact with children to propel Yuuri to make his decision. It was a fairly selfish one, in retrospect, which was why he had almost been certain that Viktor would have rejected it like he had the previous selfish decision at their first Grand Prix Final together. And yet, Viktor was just as open to the idea as he had been.

And it was this accumulation of thoughts that kept Yuuri from noticing that Viktor had jumped onto the bed, spooking him and making him shriek louder than he would have liked to admit.

"Good morning, Yuuri!" Viktor sing-songed as Makkachin pounced onto Yuuri's abdomen, making him realize exactly how much he really needed to use the bathroom at that moment. Viktor laughed and took Makkachin into his arms, absentmindedly petting him. He took a free hand to lean toward Yuuri and brush his bed hair out of his eyes─ or at least he tried. His fingers lingered just under Yuuri's chin. "Did you order more things the other day? There were a lot of packages outside our door when I came back from walking Makkachin."

Yuuri squinted, partially because he was confused─ he hadn't ordered anything at all─ and because he couldn't see anything but a fuzzy brown blob and gentle face behind it. He reached behind him and found his glasses. Blinking away the blurry images, he stretched and pet Makkachin, his hand brushing Viktor's. "G'morning, and no, I didn't. Are they all addressed to us?"

Viktor nodded. "I didn't look too closely, though. I wanted to see what they were together."

The gesture was incredibly sweet, but Yuuri didn't quite believe it. "But you couldn't wait to open up all the baby clothes you'd bought?"

Viktor shrugged, his professional smile an easy default. "I've found out recently that I like watching you open gifts instead." What was left unsaid in that sentence was that Viktor was absolutely captivated by Yuuri's features that would arch in surprise or droop in cheerful appreciation. But he didn't have to say that, because, really, he was captivated by anything that had to do with Yuuri. That would never change.

Viktor had brought the boxes in, four in total, in various sizes and weights. Yuuri read the labels more closely, but most of them were addressed from some company. The first one that didn't, he recognized instantly.

"This is from Phichit!" Yuuri picked it up too quickly, realizing that the package had _fragile_ written across it in faint sharpie. "I wonder if they're all from him?"

Viktor shook his head, keeping his leg out to keep Makkachin from attempting to chew the corners of the boxes like an eager puppy. "This one's from Yakov," he turned the box toward Yuuri so he could see the Cyrillic language scrawled onto the label.

Yuuri blinked several times. "Well, I guess we should open them, right?"

"You first," Viktor leaned over, head resting on his hands and holding Yuuri in his excited gaze.

Yuuri took a pair of scissors and started tearing off the packing tape. There were a lot of colorful packing peanuts that greeted them, on top of which was a short note. It read: _I couldn't find one that I liked so I made it myself. I hope you like it! Good luck! (P.S. I better be invited over when they're born!)_. Yuuri smiled to himself and repeated the words to Viktor when he asked.

After they'd realized they were going to be having twins, Viktor had added a second picture; this one had two pairs of baby skates. Naturally, everyone caught on and congratulations were sent all around a second time. And with practically everyone in the world counting down, it wasn't surprising anymore that these gifts were coming in at this time. Yuuko was nearly 30 weeks along─ 27, Yuuri was sure─ and they were scrambling to finish everything. They wanted _some_ time to relax before all of their time was consumed twofold. The room had both cribs completed and they never ordered a second changing table or dresser; both were big enough for two. They still had to put together the second bassinet, but Yuuri had been procrastinating because it had been the hardest piece to put together by far. He also wasn't entirely sure the bassinets were necessary, but Viktor had insisted. He'd read about it somewhere, apparently.

Yuuri set aside the card and pushed aside the peanuts to reveal what Phichit had made. Pulling a string, the gift tumbled out a little tangled at first. Viktor helped rearrange the strings and they gasped softly when it was completely unpacked. It was a mobile suspended by a metal ring (painted gold, of course) with seven strings attached to various stuffed shapes. Two felt skates, hard plastic snowflakes, a pair of plush hearts, and a─ bowl? ─ were each suspended by their own string. If any of them shook, little jingles could be heard from inside each one. Viktor took a closer look at the oddball shape and laughed after a moment.

"It's _katsudon_!" Viktor showed Yuuri the bowl. Inside, it was painted to look like pork and onion and egg and noodles were all tangled together. It was strangely ornate, and Yuuri wondered how Phichit was able to find it.

Yuuri smiled fondly. "We'll put it over one of the cribs later, okay?"

Viktor nodded, eyes still glazed over from looking at Yuuri as he opened the gift. He brought himself back to reality for a brief moment to hand Yuuri a different box. "Open this one. We'll open Yakov's last."

Yuuri hummed in agreement and took Viktor's offer. Opening it, another note fell out. This one read: _This is a combined gift from Guang-Hong and me! He picked the song and I had it transcribed! You'll see what I mean when you open it!_

Puzzled, Yuuri's eyebrows furrowed. At that reaction, Viktor came closer as well. Yuuri picked up a rather heavy wooden box that was small and rounded off, ornate flowers etched into the surface. There was a small spoke that protruded from the side and a clasp at the front. Viktor snapped it open and the lid wound back on its own, revealing two figurines laced around each other in an intricate dance. They recognized it instantly.

They were two skaters.

Viktor turned the spoke a couple times and let it unwind. A few empty clicks and then the tinny bell music began to play. It took a measure or two of soft lilting notes, but Yuuri recognized it with a soft gasp.

"You know it?" Viktor turned his head, hooking an arm around his waist. Tender affection exuded from his presence.

Yuuri's eyes shimmered. "It's a lullaby I know. It's pretty popular here, so it was a good guess." He didn't have to say that it was _his_ lullaby that was sung to him every night. Yuuri was confident Viktor would pick at that.

"You'll have to sing it for me sometime." See? Viktor was on the right track.

Yuuri glanced at Viktor, hesitant. "I don't know... I'm not a singer."

Viktor made a disapproving noise. Hugging Yuuri harder, his voice began to purr. "You should. They're going to need lullabies, you know."

"You could sing, too, you know," Yuuri huffed. He _knew_ that Viktor could sing; he'd heard plenty of verses echoing past the thin bathroom walls during Viktor's solo showers. "That's why we have this now. Just play this so I don't have to sing!"

Viktor's pout couldn't have touched Yuuri's heart more directly. "But I want to hear you sing..." Viktor nuzzled into Yuuri's neck, his hair and nose tickling him unfairly.

Yuuri picked up the next present and tore it open. The note in this one was from Chris. At the name, Viktor perked up and let go of Yuuri. He thought about warning Yuuri that Chris's gifts could be quite... forward, but a second thought of his told him that this would be fun to witness.

The Japanese man pulled out a set of baby monitors. He was about to say that it was really thoughtful until he saw what was taped together with the set.

A brand new baby blue butt plug. Yuuri's face was so red Viktor could have sworn that Yuuri burst a vein. The only reaction he showed was a smirk as he waited for Yuuri to gather his words into something reasonably coherent.

"Ah, this is, um─ he doesn't actually expect us to─"

"Why not?" Viktor raised an eyebrow and picked up the note that was paired with it. It read: _Remember not to wake the babies! ;)_ "It looks like a fun game to me. You always get a little loud, Yuuri," Viktor's voice was sultry.

Yuuri willed his blush back under the surface, rather unsuccessfully, and stuffed the things back into the box and put that box with the other opened presents. "Alright, your turn. Open Yakov's."

Viktor did as he was instructed─ he could _never_ go against Yuuri's wishes─ and soon realized that this gift wasn't from Yakov, at least not solely. The first thing he picked up was immediately familiar.

"What's that?" Yuuri wouldn't know what it was, of course.

"It's a fleece wrap," Viktor explained, turning it around for Yuuri to see completely, "this button here gets pinned after you wrap it around the baby. It helps keep them warm and fall asleep a little faster." Viktor folded it back up and set it aside. "There's two in here." Yakov's note said 'just because you've left Russia doesn't mean it's left you.' Viktor paused as he picked up the next item. It was obviously something ordered online because it was still in a plastic sealant wrap. There was a separate note taped on with different handwriting. This one was scrawled rather hastily in Russian: _I still think both of you are gross, lovesick puppies so I feel bad for what those kids will have to deal with all their lives. Give these to them. Not that I paid for it with my own money or anything._

Viktor chuckled, translating the Russian note for Yuuri, who also laughed. Inside the plastic, they discovered a matching pair of hooded onesies with cat ears and whiskers on them. They also had long tails protruding from the back. The entirety of the suit was lined in the softest material; no wonder it cost so much! Viktor picked up his phone and insisted on a selfie with the onesies. Yuuri agreed shyly and they each held one up. Viktor's eyes were alight and his smile was wide, whereas Yuuri's eyes were closed and his lips were smiling enough to show teeth. Viktor debated between posting it and tagging Yurio or simply sending it straight to Yurio with a text saying _aww, you do care!_ He chose the latter out of sympathy. He didn't want to discourage what little kindness Yurio decided to show.

Yurio's answer was almost immediate: _Shut up!_

* * *

Yuuko called them within a few days saying that she had to come by the house, apologizing for saying it was at such a late notice. There was something that she wanted to talk to them about.

Viktor had taken the call, the phone resting between his ear and his shoulder as he picked up several trash bags to take out. Yuuri asked him if he could take the phone for him but Viktor insisted that he had it under control. It wasn't until he'd gotten most of the way to the dumpster that the phone fell with several clacks onto the pavement. Sighing, he ran to put the trash bags down and then picked the phone up again. "Sorry, Yuuko, I dropped the phone. What was it exactly?"

There was an ambiguous tapping sound over the line. "Well, it's about the appointment I had today. I would have waited if it wasn't important." Whether she was excited or concerned, Viktor couldn't tell.

He tried not to frown as he walked back into the house with a Yuuri waiting to see why the phone call was so crucial that Viktor had to take the phone with him. "Is something up?" Viktor chose his wording carefully, knowing Yuuri was going to get anxious. He looked the part already.

"I'll be there shortly." Yuuko said her goodbye and hung up.

Yuuri's eyes were questioning behind his blue frames. Viktor sucked in a breath, nearly dropping the phone again. He knew he looked more composed than he felt, but with Yuuri's eyes on him like that he was extra conscious of his efforts. Yuuko hadn't said whether the news was good or bad, just urgent, but Yuuri would spiral downwards if Viktor didn't say this right. Saying nothing at all wasn't an option, either.

"It was Yuuko," Viktor started, setting the phone back onto its dock, parsing through his words as they came out, "she said she wanted to talk about what'll be happening next. She'll be here soon."

Yuuri's eyebrows dipped low, pinching against the top of his scrunched nose. The little wrinkles that resulted were cute when he was laughing, but he wasn't exactly laughing now, was he? "She couldn't say it on the phone?"

"Ah, she wanted both of us to be present," Viktor added. "Some sort of decision for us to make together, you know?"

Yuuri looked like he was going to ask further, but he shrugged it off and went back into the baby's room to whatever task he had been attending to. Viktor eyed Yuuri's hips as he walked away. They were a little wider since they'd stopped skating full time, but still toned and _incredibly_ hard to ignore. Viktor made a mental note that he'd have to pay special attention to Yuuri later, especially if this news Yuuko had was good news. If it was bad, well, Viktor was sure Yuuri would need cuddles. He was always happy to give those, although sex would be fantastic. It had been a little while, and Viktor knew it was because Yuuri was getting more and more anxious as the due date drew nearer. Yuuri had been insisting that they read a _lot_ of parenting books and quiz each other, although Viktor was sure Yuuri was over-preparing, if only slightly. But being calm about it was a double-edged sword: Yuuri would either calm down to his level or get irritated that Viktor wasn't caring about the situation enough.

Frustrating, sure, but Viktor was patient. He'd always be patient for Yuuri.

When Yuuko came, Takeshi came in as well, and Viktor handed them some tea he'd made for everyone. He wasn't used to making it the Japanese way, so he'd just bought some tea bags and boiled some water. Yuuko insisted that it tasted just fine and that Viktor was getting better at it. Yuuri wasn't about to let Viktor keep all the praise, though, and made a snide comment about the last time he'd made "tea." While they laughed, Viktor decided that perhaps some punishment was in order once they were alone again. Screw paying _special attention_ and being _nice_. Viktor would make sure he topped, too.

Yuuko carefully, awkwardly sat down at a chair Takeshi pulled out for her. Her round stomach made it hard to maneuver and she was easily out of breath. Takeshi stood behind her, giving her shoulders a gentle massage. Viktor would have to thank her profusely for the rest of his life. She was doing so much for them. Viktor sat down across from her and Yuuri took his comfortable spot on the edge of Viktor's lap. Viktor's hand readily settled onto Yuuri's thigh, rubbing small, soothing circles. He pressed a feather-light kiss to his shoulder blade and the four of them settled into conversation.

"They've been kicking a lot, lately," Yuuko mentioned, bringing a hand to the lower side of her stomach. "If we're patient, you can feel them, too."

Viktor saw Yuuri's face go red out of the corner of his eye. How was that request making him flustered? A moment's afterthought and he realized it was sort of an intimate gesture. Viktor decided he'd speak up instead. "I'd love to," he squeezed Yuuri's thigh lightly to tell him to stand up so Viktor could move.

Viktor went to kneel beside Yuuko when she tensed and winced. He paused, wondering what that was about, when Takeshi told them it was just a contraction.

"A contraction?!" Yuuri blurted out, sitting in Viktor's seat, his knuckles white against the wood.

"They begin to really happen later on," Nishigori explained, "but these are just false starts, the body getting ready and everything."

"Aren't you only 30 weeks along?" Yuuri's voice was lower, like he was trying to control himself. Viktor kept an eye on him, aching to stamp out the beginnings of his anxiety that were about to surface.

"28," Yuuko corrected, "and they are a little early, but every pregnancy is different. Besides, that one was so small it was more of a slight cramp than anything. It's just hard to adjust when you get this far," Yuuko reassured him, and Viktor was glad she'd said it. He wasn't sure that if the words came from him that Yuuri would have calmed down as much as he seemed to now.

Viktor felt warmth surrounding his fingers and turned to see that Yuuko had taken his hand in hers. She lifted it to her stomach, slightly higher than where she'd been holding. "One of them really likes to kick here, the little devil."

Viktor waited, his fingers frozen in place. He didn't want to move and miss it, so when his legs started to go numb from kneeling, he ignored it. He motioned for Yuuri to come closer, and his husband did so reluctantly. Viktor was sure Yuuri secretly wanted to, but was scared. He wasn't sure why Yuuri would be scared, but it was his job to bring him out of that shell every time he tried to disappear back inside it.

Yuuri knelt down beside Viktor but didn't move his hands. With a nod from Yuuko, Viktor took his free hand and clasped it gingerly around Yuuri's. His hands were clammy and jittering, but under his touch they relaxed a little. He brought Yuuri's hand up next to Viktor's and their fingers brushed across Yuuko's stomach. They waited a moment and it seemed Yuuri was about to get up when it happened.

The fabric of Yuuko's shirt underneath their hands pushed against them once, twice. The third was a hard kick. Viktor's heart nearly jumped out of his chest, smacking against his ribcage and hitting everything else inside of him before it settled. Except it was still beating fast, so 'settling' wasn't quite the right term. A shaky gasp escaped the beautiful pair of lips beside him and Viktor turned to look. Yuuri's face was lit up like the early morning sunshine he saw on his walks with Makkachin. His eyes were melted amber, quivering in disbelief. Viktor's heart swelled at the sight. When Yuuri glanced back at him, their eyes met and Viktor knew Yuuri saw the same happiness on his face. A single tear cascaded from one of Yuuri's eyes and he choked out a small laugh. Viktor wiped the tear and proceeded to hug him tightly, the feeling in their chests too precious to let escape.

The moment was mutual for a little while because no one wanted to interrupt. But eventually, Nishigori cleared his throat. "Yuuko, the appointment."

Yuuri broke from the hug first, although Viktor's arms were still wrapped around him as they sat on the floor. "Oh, yeah, how did the appointment go, Yuuko?"

Yuuko's smile faltered slightly. "Well, it's nothing terrible," she tried to preface, but sighed and gave up. Everyone in the room knew they couldn't save Yuuri from the anxiety that was about to unfold. "The doctor said one of the babies is a little underdeveloped, but they've given me some supplements and medicine to help it along. There will be another appointment in a couple weeks to make sure they're working, but the doctor told me they almost always worked perfectly. That's, uh... that's why one of them is kicking more than the other."

Viktor's face betrayed his emotions for a split second before he recovered. "Well, at least he's sure. That's good, right Yuuri?" He tried to gently shake him before the incoming wave crashed and they were both swept away by it.

Yuuri nodded without really thinking. "You'll let us know─?"

"Of course, Yuuri," Yuuko's resolution brought back her smile.

"Every step of the way," Nishigori added, cementing the promise.

When the Nishigoris left, Viktor and Yuuri were left standing in their kitchen, the silence between them thick and unyielding. But Viktor had to try something. Even if he didn't say anything, there must have been something he could do. Yuuri's shoulders were a touch away from crumbling, trembling almost imperceptibly.  Struggling to come to a decision, he waited to let Yuuri decide for him.

When his beautiful face turned to him, quiet tear tracks glistened from the light streaming in through the windows. Viktor took one cautious step, looking at his husband with a question unsaid. Yuuri shook his head at first, then changed his mind and nodded, more sure. Viktor closed the distance between them and held onto Yuuri. He wrapped an arm around the back of Yuuri's head, fingers threading through his soft hair and massaging gently. Viktor closed his eyes and breathed in his scent, keeping a steady heartbeat for Yuuri to anchor himself. He knew they were _so close_ to having their first children, _too close_ now for something like this to happen. They _had to be okay_. He didn't want to think otherwise.

Viktor couldn't stand seeing Yuuri in pain, so he cut the ribbon of silence between them. "The doctors have it under control, Yuuri. We saw for ourselves that they're doing well. We just have to believe in them─"

"But what if they _don't_ ," Yuuri was crashing. From an incredible high to this relative low, his heart wasn't going to take it. Viktor had to keep it from breaking.

"We need to believe, Радость моя," Viktor muttered against the shell of Yuuri's ear, his breath rustling Yuuri's hair. Then he smiled as he remembered something, pulling Yuuri just far enough away from him so that they could look into each other's eyes.

"Besides, we still haven't picked our names yet."

A welcome distraction, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally super duper long, so I cut it in half. The other half will be up relatively soon after this. Originally, the chapter after this was supposed to be up for Christmas. Now that I'm splitting it, the special Christmas chapter will probably be a tad late.
> 
> ANYWAY: any name ideas, guys? I've got some that they'll discuss but I'd like to hear some ideas from you!


	6. Are You Prepared?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri make a game out of everything, even their choice of names. But they're cutting it a bit close, aren't they? (Warning: Smut tag is for this chapter.)

Yuuri put off giving Viktor his baby names for weeks─ not that there were many left. Yuuko was on week 31 and surely about to burst after 6 more, as the doctors had told them. He'd tried to look up Russian names and picked some he liked, but he was worried that Viktor would laugh at him. He may have picked bad names or words with double meanings and he didn't want to be subjected to that humiliation. A lot of the names he went through were also hard to pronounce, and he wanted to find names that were easier to say for people not used to the Russian tongue─ so, everyone else in Japan. He had been learning some Russian, but his pronunciation was still pretty bad.

Embarrassingly enough, he barely had any names in his own language to share. It had taken him awhile to come up with them; the kanji had to be perfect and _mean_ something to him, so a lot of things were ruled out and put back on the list and ruled out again. He knew Viktor would trust Yuuri in whatever he chose, but he couldn't bring himself to keep content to one name over another. Well, there was one that he liked, more so than the others, but it just seemed so boring. At least Viktor would be able to pronounce these names. Japanese was much easier to pronounce, thanks to its phonetics.

When Yuuri had asked for Viktor's names, he refused to speak unless Yuuri did too. Yuuri even tried to win Viktor over with a rather enthralling... _offer_ , and Viktor didn't bite the bait. Yuuri could tell that he really, really wanted to, but both of them knew how stubborn the other was. It was a game: who would break and give first?

"They don't need to be the most perfect names ever, Yuuri," said Viktor. "There's no such thing. Just write them out if you don't want to say them. You know I can't read kanji that well, anyway. I probably won't even be able to guess!" Viktor winked.

Yuuri's response had been to lean in, slick back his hair with one hand, and grab at Viktor's collar with another. Their breaths shared the same small space between their lips, so close but so far away. He even made sure that when he grabbed the collar, it was held tighter at the sides of his neck. Viktor _loved_ it, or at least that's what he was insinuating from the protruding bulge below the belt.

Viktor smirked and broke from Yuuri's grasp, as much as it pained him to deny the pleasure they hadn't had in weeks. He knew Yuuri was just teasing and that they wouldn't actually get that far. Yuuri's anxiety had been teetering on the edge since Yuuko told them about the current situation, although even weeks before then had been dry as well. Viktor wasn't going to hide his reactions to Yuuri; he knew that they were happening a little too easily and Yuuri _knew_ that it was because he'd said no countless times. Two could play at this game.

Viktor was writing in the living room one day when Yuuri came back from the grocery store. When he called to his husband, no one answered. He walked in and peered over Viktor's shoulder, eyeing the strange Cyrillic letters and horribly transcribed kanji curiously.

Viktor hid the page from him. "No peeking, Yuuri! Not until you tell me what you picked!"

Yuuri went back into the kitchen without a word and started putting things away. Judging by the harsh clacking and thudding sounds, Viktor worried that he'd gone too far. He folded the paper and shoved it in his pocket as he walked into the kitchen. The sight that greeted him was unfair.

Yuuri was sitting on the counter, shirt discarded on the floor by the stove and one leg up on the counter. His pants were obviously unbuttoned, Viktor's focus brought there by one of Yuuri's deft hands. His other hand was in his hair and he licked his lips when Viktor finally ripped his eyes from Yuuri's lower half.

"Like what you see?" A low voice beckoned to him.

Viktor squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fist, growling too low for Yuuri to hear. He hesitated, knowing he might lose if he didn't do this right. It only took a handful of steps to carry himself into Yuuri's embrace, wrapping his husband's legs around him. Yuuri was eager to reply by snaking his arms up the back of Viktor's shirt, nails lightly trailing his spine. Damn, Yuuri had this planned.

Viktor's lips were on Yuuri's before he realized it. The touch of skin, lips, tongues, set him on fire, the sensations long missed. His hands tugged at Yuuri's hair and he pried off his glasses, making sure to set them carefully on the other edge of the sink. Then he moved a hand down to Yuuri's bare chest, feeling around while his eyes were closed and lips were busy. A nipple had hardened and Viktor pinched it playfully. Yuuri's short groan of annoyance was paired with a swat to Viktor's hand.

Viktor smirked as much as he could into the kiss, Yuuri's tongue ignoring the fact that he'd closed his mouth slightly. It was sloppy and needy and so damn delicious. Viktor tasted some sort of mint on Yuuri. He'd planned this better than he probably planned his names, if Viktor had to guess what this was about.

And since Viktor was in on Yuuri's little plan, he took Yuuri's little swat as permission to move his hands elsewhere. He grabbed Yuuri's behind and dragged him over the counter tiles to the edge, their groins bumping together.

The roughness had Yuuri breaking the kiss with a gasp, but he launched himself back into it, refusing to let Viktor control this. One hand went down to Viktor's ass and he squeezed, kneading it and daring to dip his fingers underneath the waistband. As he did so, his fingers that were still digging into Viktor's back traveled to his chest and reciprocated Viktor's earlier ministration. His mouth moved to kiss along Viktor's neck, although he wasn't making it easy to reach.

Viktor butted his forehead to Yuuri's, making them pause. "You are the _worst_ ," he breathed out, exasperated.

Yuuri didn't even seem fazed. Damn his stamina. "You'll tell me, now?"

"Not a chance," Viktor sucked a love bite onto the space between his neck and shoulder─ Yuuri's favorite place.

Yuuri whined, half in pleasure. "I-I was under the impression that if you gave in, you'd tell me."

VIktor hummed tentatively, the sensual pose between them still terse. "It's not giving in if I don't finish."

Yuuri's eyes widened. "Th-that's not fair!"

Viktor answered by shrugging and tugging Yuuri's pants down a little further. He wasted no time in pulling him out and gripping him hard. Yuuri could have stopped it. He would have said _no_ or _stop_ and Viktor would have gladly stopped, knowing he was really the one that had won. But Yuuri just panted soft and lewd, as Viktor worked him higher and higher. It didn't take long─ in fact, it was probably record timing─ before Yuuri came, cursing under his breath.

"Been too long, huh?" Viktor's lips spoke against Yuuri's. He was talking about the both of them.

Yuuri knew he was defeated and almost looked apologetic. "Um... do you want me to help you with that?" He pointed to the very large and _very ignored_ clothed erection.

Viktor pulled away from Yuuri, regretting the absence of his warmth. "I'd have to tell you the names I picked, then, and that wouldn't be fun. I want to know what names Yuuri wants to give our little ones!"

Yuuri blushed as he pouted. It was a cute image and Viktor wished he could just take a picture. Yuuri would insist that he delete it. But what came next was a surprise. "Sora."

Viktor blinked, clearly taken aback by the surprise. He took a breath. "Okay. Could you show me how you write it?"

"Let me clean up and put my clothes back on." Yuuri hopped off the counter, looking suddenly embarrassed. It was cute, so Viktor let Yuuri get away with his last effort to procrastinate.

They sat in the living room and Yuuri took a notepad onto his lap to show Viktor the names. He wrote 空 on the page and tapped it. "That's 'Sora.' It's the kanji for 'sky.'"

Viktor nodded. "Simple, pretty. Is that a girl's or boy's name?"

Yuuri scratched the back of his head. "It's unisex so... either, really."

"That's cheating," Viktor mused.

"No, it's not," Yuuri chided and continued writing more kanji. This time, 順 一 was scrawled below. "That one's pronounced 'Junichi,' it means 'obedient one.'"

Viktor furrowed his brows. "That's an interesting choice. Looks more complicated."

Yuuri paused, rolling his eyes. "It's one of the simpler ones. I just think it sounds nice." When Viktor didn't answer, Yuuri moved on. He wrote down two sets of kanji this time, one reading 利行 and the other reading 敏幸. He put a double-sided arrow between them. "They both read as 'Toshiyuki.'"

Viktor frowned. "That's confusing. And long. What are the meanings?"

Yuuri's blush returned, although faint. "The second one here uses the kanji for 'clever' and 'happy,' and the first two are the same kanji as a voice actor from a show I used to watch a lot. I always kinda liked it, I guess."

"Well, the way he spells his name looks simpler, so I'd be fine with that," Viktor put his hand on Yuuri's non-writing hand and pressed lightly. "'Toshiyuki?' Was that right?"

Yuuri nodded, glad that Viktor was taking such an interest in his names. He didn't know that Viktor was secretly ecstatic to hear any Japanese name Yuuri came up with. Viktor himself had also tried to research Japanese names and it didn't turn out too well. Yuuri drew a line underneath the names. "That's all I have for boys' names. 'Sora' counts as a girl's name, so excluding that one, I only have two."

"Mhm," Viktor encouraged Yuuri with a small smile.

Yuuri wrote out the two names 由希子 and 美香. He noticed that Viktor's nose scrunched up at the three-kanji name. He cleared his throat and explained. "The first one there is 'Yukiko.' The kanji mean 'rare child.' This one here says 'Mika.' The kan─"

Viktor's laughter caught Yuuri off guard and he dropped the pen he'd been using. He glared at him, a little hurt. "What's so funny?"

Viktor shook his head. "It's just that 'Mika' is a male name in Europe. I've known a few. It's interesting to see it as a girl's name. It definitely works, don't get me wrong, it just matches with a name that I'd picked."

Yuuri visibly relaxed. "Well, my names are finished. What did you have that matched?"

Viktor nodded and motioned to take the notepad. He tore off the page Yuuri had wrote on and set it aside for later. The Cyrillic letters flowed from his fingertips in a way that was surreal to Yuuri. The letters came to him so easily, especially when contrasted with the slow, jerky way that Viktor wrote Japanese. Seeing Viktor revert to his origins, no matter how small or insignificant the action had been, was beautiful. It was a side Yuuri would never fully understand, but appreciated for what it was and how it shaped the beautiful man before him.

"This one," Viktor tapped the first name, some of the letters familiar: Михаил, "is pronounced 'Mikhail.' I think you can see where I'm coming from, now."

Yuuri's lips curled upward as he agreed. "It might be a little hard for others to pronounce, though."

"You try it, Yuuri."

"M-Mikkuheiru?" Yuuri stumbled through the katakana that came to his mind. It must have been off, so he tried again. It sounded weird on his tongue, but it had sounded so carefully crafted on Viktor's.

He laughed. "I see your point. The others might not be very good for Japanese speakers either, though." He pointed to the next one: Иван. "I know you have trouble with the V's in Japanese, but this one is pronounced 'Ivan.'"

"Ii-ban?" Yuuri attempted.

"Alright, next one," Viktor rolled with it and crossed out the name. One 'V' in the family was good enough. The next one read: Максим. "Maksim?"

"Makushim?"

Viktor crossed that one out, too. Алек was next. "This one is 'Alek.'"

"Alek?" Yuuri said much more easily. When he looked to Viktor for approval, the Russian's face lit up proudly. His sea glass eyes were refracting light too bright and too heavenly for this world.

"Yeah! Do you like it?" His voice was displaying it all.

Yuuri nodded, but he was distracted by the last name on the list. Юрий appeared too familiar. "Is that 'Yuri'?"

Viktor threw up his hands in mock defeat. "You got me!"

"We're not naming one of our kids after me!"

"It could be after Yurio!" Viktor held up a finger and proceeded to sound like it was the best idea that he had ever had in the whole world.

"He would hate us."

"It was a joke, anyway," Viktor shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant, but Yuuri had a faint feeling that Viktor might have been a little hurt by the rejection. "Do you wanna hear the girls' names?"

Yuuri nodded and watched as Viktor began writing again. He slowly started to frown. There were a lot more names on this list. "Do you really want girls?"

Viktor halted and nodded, uncharacteristically shy. "I miss braiding my long hair," he murmurs in such a small voice that it's barely audible.

But the comment hit Yuuri right where it counted. The idea of watching Viktor braid their daughter's hair filled his mind and _good heaven above_ he wanted the image to be real. Viktor would be looking at her lovingly, his features soft and unmasked, as his fingers glided through her long hair and pieced them together effortlessly. Yuuri looked back at the list and saw that the first two Нина and Нона were very similar.

"Those are 'Nina' and 'Nona,'" Viktor supplied, "I couldn't decide which of those I liked better, so I put both down. This one," Viktor pointed to Серафина, is 'Serafina.' This," the pen tapped София, "is 'Sofia.' Then this," the second to last name: Наташа, "is 'Natasha.'"

Yuuri sighed quietly. "At least those ones are all easy to pronounce."

Viktor smirked, pointing to the last one: Татьяна. "And this one is 'Tatiana.'"

Yuuri should have known there would be one that was going to be hard to say. "Well," he took the notepad and the other paper in his hands and held them up, "which ones are your favorites?"

They both stared at the pages as if they expected them to speak. The paper, held up to the light of the bay window, was patchy and the lines from the other side could be seen through the sheet. The kanji scribbled on it contrasted with the neat Cyrillic and Yuuri thought that the Russian names looked so much prettier. It was probably because it was foreign, but Yuuri didn't pay attention to that detail. The still air of the room, though comfortable, was yelling at them to pick, pick, _pick_ one already!

"I like 'Sora' and 'Yukiko,'" Viktor finally said, and even pointed to the correct kanji. Yuuri noticed that he had only picked Japanese names and wondered if that was because he wanted Yuuri to be able to pronounce their kids' names or if he genuinely liked them the best. Either way, Yuuri decided he'd pick the Russian names that he liked.

But he just couldn't pick one. "I... I don't know. I really like all the girl names you picked. The boy ones are kinda hard to say. I guess I'd probably choose 'Alek'."

Viktor folded his arms and turned away, petulant. "If you really hate them so much you can't pick, you should just tell me. You're really mean, Yuuri."

" _Huh_?!" Yuuri dropped the papers and turned to Viktor. "You wrote down _so many_! How am I supposed to pick two?"

Viktor unfolded his arms and held Yuuri's gaze. "I was able to pick two."

Yuuri grabbed the papers off the floor and physically counted out each name. "Out of, what, five? I had to pick two out of ten!"

"I really like a lot of names, okay?!"

Yuuri put the notepad with the Russian back into Viktor's hands. "You have to pick ones that _mean something_ to you! You can't just pick any name!"

Viktor's face showed the slightest twitch, letting Yuuri know he was actually hurt. "Are you saying these names don't mean anything to me? Sorry they aren't made of intricate, blocky letters with a bunch of vague translations!"

Instead of rising up and competing with him, Yuuri let out a long, slow breath. It didn't calm him down completely, but it helped him choose his next words. "We can just give them Russian names, then, since you're so fond of them," there wasn't any malice, no venom at all, in his voice, just a quiet sadness. "You'd be able to give them lots of pet names, too."

Viktor's hard expression disappeared, replaced for a brief moment with what could be considered regret to be immediately replaced with a heartwarming smile. He realized the gesture and took Yuuri into his arms, nuzzling into his shoulder. "We don't have to do that, Yuuri. Sorry about what I said. We still have some time left. I'm sure we'll know the right names when the time comes. For now..." Viktor let his voice trail off as his hands snuck their way farther up Yuuri's thighs. When did they get there? "... Can we please? It's been so long and I think we deserve a break from all this thinking and decision making."

"A break? Viktor we were just in the─ we haven't even actually picked the names we'll use─ and I already fin─"

Viktor kissed him happily. "You're cute when you stutter, but I really wish you'd act like you did in the kitchen earlier."

Yuuri silently cursed himself for the blush the spread across his face like a hormonal teenager. It _had_ been awhile, huh? Viktor's playful fingers were already garnering a reaction from him, and he was the one who had just finished a little while ago. He wondered how Viktor was handling himself. Peering down, he found that Viktor was, in fact, still rock hard from earlier. Feeling pity for Viktor and guilt for himself, he wondered if he could have staved off his own arousal as well as Viktor had.

Viktor's other hand tilted Yuuri's head up so their eyes could meet. "I'm up here, котенок," his voice was husky. Needy. The question he posed never left his lips.

Yuuri answered with his mouth on Viktor's, wasting no time in opening up to him as he climbed over, straddling his hips. Viktor hummed─ or attempted to─ against Yuuri as his hands latched onto his hips. But because he'd already been hard, it didn't take long before he broke the kiss, his fingers digging unsteadily.

"Yuuri, just finish me right now," Viktor keened. "It hurts."

Yuuri complied, putting his hands to work on Viktor's pants, but pausing once he was exposed. When they looked at each other again, Viktor saw not a dark, sensual glare but a soft, concerning one. Yuuri, curled a tentative hand around Viktor. "I thought you wanted to do it?"

Viktor moaned low as Yuuri began to pump, too slow for his liking. "I'm not going to last long. Perhaps we'll try for two rounds?"

"You're not going to be ready by the time I am," Yuuri reminded him, pondering which one of them meant to top this time.

"That's why Chris bought us that toy," Viktor tried to sound irresistible but his words ended in a long and shaky breath. Yuuri had gripped him a little harder, still going impossibly slow.

Yuuri realized exactly what Viktor wanted. He flipped his switch at the thought. "You'd like to see me with that in, wouldn't you? Seeing that pretty blue poking out my ass?"

Viktor's shoulders tensed, trembling. "C-close..."

Yuuri stopped what he was doing and got off of Viktor, looking at the mess that he was unraveling.

"Y-you ass!" Viktor swore, the sudden lack of sensation driving him mad. "I wanted you to keep talking."

He put his hand back around Viktor to silence him and licked his lips. "Just keep picturing it for me, okay?" Not waiting for an answer, he took all of Viktor into his mouth and slathered his tongue wherever he could. Viktor's precious moans were being choked back by the back of his hand. Yuuri wanted to move it away, but he was a little busy. Bobbing up and down, he sucked in his cheeks and tugged all the way up to the ridge of the head and back down. His hands were massaging the base where he couldn't quite reach. He had the _worst_ gag reflex, so he learned─ quite well─ how to deal with it.

Russian rolled off Viktor's tongue in an endless stream, broken only by silent groans that left him speechless for a moment. One especially sharp sucking motion and he had reached his edge, teetering and finally falling─ more like tumbling─ back down.

Yuuri kept his mouth going, however, and Viktor soon had small tears prickling the far corners of his eyes. The Russian knew Yuuri was trying to keep him hard until they could _really_ start their activities, but it was just too much. "S-stop..."

Yuuri popped off and pouted, a string of saliva and come connecting his lips to his spent cock. "But I'm already hard again."

Viktor cursed to himself. Even after several years, this damn boy's stamina didn't quit. It really was going to be the death of him one day. "Head into the room, котенок, I'll tend to you in a minute."

Yuuri's pout turned into the sly smile that Viktor knew well. He peeled off his shirt again, making a show out of it as his hands ghosted up his midsection. When the shirt was pulled over his head, he made sure his hair was mussed when he reemerged. He'd forgotten about his glasses, however, and they were left askew down his nose.

A moment later they were both a giggling mess. Yuuri tossed his shirt at Viktor and sauntered off, knowing they were just going to start laughing again if Yuuri even tried to strip sexily again.

Viktor pulled up his boxers but kicked off his pants. He didn't have a need for any clothing, really, but he knew the cloth would at least slightly discourage Yuuri from trying to pleasure him again. What he had in mind was going to be pleasure enough. He took off his shirt and dropped it with his pants, not looking back as he walked over to the hall closet where they had put the gifts they'd gotten but didn't know where to put yet. Reaching into the box, he pulled out the butt plug and admired it for a moment. It wasn't very large, but it was shaped in such a way that Viktor had no doubt Yuuri would be able to take it, even after so long without having something inside him. The thought Yuuri had spoken to him on the couch came back to him and _good lord_ he was half hard again. Maybe he wasn't as old as he thought he was.

Or maybe this was just what Yuuri's _eros_ did to him.

He walked into their bedroom to meet─ once again─ a sight most unfair. Yuuri was kneeling upright on the bed, his legs spread. He was naked, very naked. One hand was on his chest and the other was behind him, out of sight. It took a shocked Viktor a moment to realize what Yuuri was doing to himself. He quickly made his way to their bed and jumped on, the plug leaving his grasp as he held onto Yuuri's arm, stopping the movement. Then he noticed the uncapped bottle of lube in Yuuri's lap, some spilling onto his hips.

"Who said you had to do that yourself?" Viktor pulled Yuuri's arm away and when he saw the slicked, shiny fingers, he knew the blush on his face was going to be hard to hide.

Yuuri moaned, his eyes closing. "I wanted you so badly, _Vitya_."

Viktor chuckled, gently pushing on Yuuri's chest so that he was lying on the bed, his legs bent behind him still. He eyed some lube spilling onto the sheets from the change in position. It was a pretty sight, although Viktor sort of preferred being in Yuuri's position more often than not. The switch was welcoming, though, and there was no way in hell that he was going to complain. "You're not going to have me just yet, we've got to try our new toy, remember?"

Yuuri bit his lip in response, shifting so that he was holding his legs to his chest, his arms hooking under the back of his knees. His gorgeous brown eyes were begging. It really had been awhile for both of them. Viktor paused, the lube in his hand, and looked at Yuuri lovingly. "Are you sure you're okay to do this? You're not worrying?" The last thing he wanted was for Yuuri to be doing this because he felt bad about his anxiety cockblocking them for weeks.

"Viktor," Yuuri warned, his voice firm, "don't coddle me. I'm fine. I want this. I want you. _Fuck,_ " and then some Japanese that he knew would shoot an arrow straight through Viktor.

It did, it really did. Viktor leaned down and pressed a small kiss to his love's cheek. His free hand ran down Yuuri's legs, admiring the bunched up muscles. His kisses got more and more heated the farther he moved down. He heard Yuuri groan: his way of saying _stop teasing_. Viktor decided that, since Yuuri was being so nice about letting him do this, the least he could do was give him what he wanted. He gave Yuuri a few pumps before pouring some lube onto his fingers. He used a generous amount, knowing Yuuri still found the sensation of something inside him weird. Glancing at the plug, Viktor was honestly surprised Yuuri was complying so easily. There had to be a trick. Or Yuuri was the best husband ever.

Which, he already was, so it really could be either reason. Viktor didn't care.

One finger was already too easy, since Yuuri had at least gotten that far, so he put in another and spread them apart, kissing one of Yuuri's thighs as he did so to distract him.

Yuuri clenched around him. "That hurts a little."

Viktor froze. "Sorry," he put his fingers back together and kept his pace slow, "you just look so good, Yuuri."

Yuuri let go of one of his legs and pumped himself. "K-keep going, I'll be okay."

Viktor, taking the verbal permission with a grain of salt, went a little faster. He tried it again and made sure he brushed up against something. He knew he got it right when Yuuri's back arched off the sheets, his lips parting in a lewd intake of breath. Smirking, Viktor worked it again, his free hand grabbing the lube and adding some to his third finger before he put that one in as well. Yuuri didn't seem to notice, his face, neck, and chest flushing a vibrant pink and his hand trembling on his member as Viktor rubbed against it again. Yuuri clenched a second and grimaced, his eyes shut tight.

"Yuuri, you need to relax," his voice was kind, his ministrations tender. "Do you think you're ready?"

Yuuri nodded, eyes staying shut. At that, Viktor took his fingers out and took the moment to watch Yuuri's ass. Swallowing hard, he knew he wasn't quite fully ready and Yuuri would have to wait a little while. He picked up the plug and lathered it with even more lube. Too much as better than too little. Lining it up, he massaged Yuuri's hip with his free hand and asked if it was alright to proceed. Yuuri nodded, the cool sensation of lube making him start to close up. Viktor pressed the head of it past the ring of muscle, pausing before he continued. It took a minute of stopping, pressing kisses, and pushing a little bit more, but when it finally slid right into place, Yuuri sighed in relief. The feeling was mutual, a bead of sweat dripping from Viktor's forehead. Yuuri always tried to push himself too hard. He was about to ask Yuuri if he wanted it taken out when a cell phone rang, faint but insistent, from the opposite side of the house.

Viktor swiveled his head in the direction of the noise. "Is that yours or mine?"

Yuuri shrugged. He had let go of his legs, settling them onto the sheets. His chest was still heaving, the only clue that he was getting used to the toy inside him. "Could you answer it?"

Viktor nodded and left Yuuri to wiggle around on the sheets.

Yuuri really needed to come. He petted himself a few times and realized he was a lot closer than he thought. He debated waiting for Viktor, but after what seemed like forever (it was only 30 seconds), he made up his mind. One hand took his cock and the other took the plug's handle and twisted. It didn't take more than a few rotations and pumps before he came for the second time that day, the liquid spread thin on his chest and stomach.

Viktor barged back into the room at the tail end of Yuuri's orgasm, all of his clothing plus his coat and boots on and Yuuri's coat and boots in his hands. He hesitated midstep, taking in the sight, but shook his head and dropped the articles to the floor.

"Yuuri, let's get you cleaned up, we've got to go," Viktor sounded urgent, an edge to his voice. He grabbed a bunch of tissues from the nightstand and hastily rubbed Yuuri down, missing several spots. He thrust some more tissues into Yuuri's hand.

But Yuuri didn't move. "What's going on? Viktor? Who called?"

Viktor was already elbows deep in their dresser, throwing clothes in Yuuri's direction. He pulled Yuuri off the bed and started dressing him, careful not to jostle his hips too much lest the plug get dislodged or uncomfortable. Yuuri let him do it, concerned that this was apparently so important that they couldn't take the time to take the toy out.

His husband's next words made him understand.

"Yuuko went into early labor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, this was supposed to be uploaded BEFORE Christmas, and the next chapter was supposed to be the one written for Christmas so that you guys could have some nice fluff as a gift. But instead, you get smut. You're welcome.
> 
> That aside, I hope you like the names. I'm still torn on them, but hopefully when I write the chapter Viktor and Yuuri will let me know what they want. Or I'll be left to make the decisions again. Let me know what you think!


	7. Are You Ready?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment has come... hasn't it? How about now? Now?
> 
> Tensions are at their highest and 'struggling to survive' sounds pretty apt right about now.

Walls of white inched closer, armies of wooden chairs with gaudy prints marched into personal space, and the flutes and violins over the speakers warred jarring arias. Numb feet tap, tap, tapped against the linoleum, keeping the erratic beat in line with the cacophonous symphony that clattered the mind. Darkness shrouded the corners of Yuuri's vision. The air was too hot and too cold, sweat weaving its way around the goosebumps that crawled up his arms. Breath scraped by, leaving his lungs exposed and stuttering.

A foreign warmth had clasped his hand that clutched at the seat he was in. His gasp didn't seem like it was from his own lips, the sound falling strange upon his ears. Arms retracted to catch the sounds and bring them back to his mouth, willing it to silence. He glanced to where a pale hand hovered over the armrest and followed it up to a face like snow, hidden by silver hair and a blanket of concern.

It took Viktor a moment to form words, shocked as he was by Yuuri's retraction. "T-they'll call us in soon, Yuuri."

He clung to those words, dangling off the end of the sentence as the cliff loomed far below. "Yuuko's only thirty-one weeks along, Viktor." Over a full month short. His fingers scrambled to find purchase as he failed to voice his thoughts.

If they were born now, the babies would be premature. One of them was already behind. Yuuri's stomach churned and he breathed in dust that coated his throat. The cliff began to crumble.

Viktor's hand collapsed onto Yuuri's chair, not daring to touch him, but itching for contact. Indecision won out but the ice between them was fractals from shattering. Strings tied between their hearts tugged and pulled and the thread was wearing thin. Too close and they would break, too far and they would snap. Viktor turned his head to stare out the window and caught the glimpse of an unsuspecting world outside. Not one person knew their state, the perilous bridge they walked with nothing to hold onto but each other, even though they were too far apart for fingertips to touch. He could take a step back, risk them both falling, and hold onto him tightly. Or he could move forward, climb onto safety in the hopes that the removal of his weight would allow Yuuri safe passage.

"Katsuki, Nikiforov," a nurse walked into the room, hanging by the doorway. She didn't look up from her paperwork.

Yuuri was out of the chair before Viktor's name was finished, the legs clacking on the floor. Viktor eyed the jerky reaction Yuuri had when he stood too fast. A smirk almost played on his lips when he remembered the toy, but now was not the time to think about that. He was standing too, had stood just as fast as Yuuri, but he wasn't aware of himself.

The nurse set a brisk pace, much to their relief, and navigated the winding hallways and square, open offices and pale pink separator curtains with practiced ease. Their feet drowned out any other sounds, stepping in time with each other, though one had a considerably longer gait than the other. Chancing it, Viktor took Yuuri's hand in his, fingers tangling and his thumb brushing over the clammy skin. Yuuri's steps slowed a fraction before skipping to keep up.

They reached one of the rooms at the back of the maternity ward. The quiet stunted their approach. Once allowed to enter, Nishigori stood from his spot at the windowsill and Yuuko's head lolled in their direction from her bed. The hospital gown was donned and starched sheets covered her rounded stomach. Yuuri and Viktor stood by the door, hands clenched, not comprehending the protocol this situation counted on. The silence settled on them like freshly fallen snow, all ambient noise─ even the steady beeps and whirs of the machines─ trapped between the snowflakes.

Yuuko looked like she was about to say something when she hunched over, as far as she could in such a state, and groaned. Yuuri instinctively stepped forward, hesitated, and then came over to the bed, across from Nishigori. Viktor saw his eyes sparkling, questioning.

"Her water broke an hour ago, and the contractions have been getting more frequent," he explained, his voice staying level. "We thought they were the false ones until she said something didn't feel right. The nurses here said she's about three centimeters dilated already, but her water wasn't supposed to break. Every one's different, though. They gave her antibiotics so that the risk of infection to the infants is brought down."

Yuuri nodded, attenuating the monitors. Three heartbeats rose and fell on the screens. Two were small and fast, though one was slower than the other. What it meant, he could only guess.

He didn't want to guess.

"How long do you think it'll be?" The vibrations of Viktor's chest were a welcoming connection to reality for Yuuri as he leaned back into him. He was glad Viktor was asking the questions he couldn't bring his voice to form.

"Before it's all over?" Yuuko laughed, mocking in tone.

Nishigori held her hand. "Well, she isn't breaking my arm yet, so I'd say it could be hours. Sorry we called when we did. You two can go home and rest, you'll need it for when they actually get here."

"But what about how early they are? Won't there be issues once they _are_ here?" Yuuri spoke out quietly, trembling.

There were no answers to be heard and they stood in silence again. Viktor wrapped an arm around Yuuri's shoulders and herded him to a pair of seats by the corner, out of sight from the window. He worried that if Yuuri's eyes caught the light that the brightness would disintegrate the man underneath him. He told the Nishigoris that they would stay as long as they had to; for support, for relief, for anything that would mean they did not fall apart. As excited as he was for this to finally play out, nervous energy seeped into his bones. He needed this as much as Yuuri.

Yuuko had picked up a book from a bag of supplies they had brought with them to ease the boredom and listlessness. But leaning over triggered another contraction, her attempts to dampen the discomfort foiled as her gasp ended painfully. Viktor stiffened, unaccustomed to such display. Much like Yuuri crying, the scene before him was unintentional and unfamiliar. He wanted to fix it, but he just didn't know how. He didn't even think that there was anything that he _could_ do. The only thing he did think was that he couldn't survive if he saw Yuuri crying again.

Several hours passed, the sunset throwing uneven splashes of colors on the nondescript walls, and Viktor's phone battery died. Yuuko's contractions and Viktor's terse muscles occurred closer and closer, but the last time the nurses checked, Yuuko was still only five centimeters along. She had to be at least ten before they could even consider pushing, although she claimed the sensations were already there and her language was beginning to get as colorful as the sun's rays. Options were discussed between calm and urgent, hushed and raised voices, as Viktor and Yuuri stayed glued to their seats. When the four were left alone again, and another contraction had Yuuko growling in frustration, Viktor thought he was going to pull several muscles in his arms and legs.

Yuuri stood suddenly. "I'm going to go find a vending machine. Viktor?"

The Russian realized it wasn't a question of what he wanted but an order for him to tag along. He asked if the others wanted anything, and Yuuko yelled at them for being able to walk around as they pleased, but also to get her some juice. Viktor nodded and followed Yuuri out of the room as if he was anchored to the man. The anxiety that had settled into Yuuri's body before they had left the house seemed to have disappeared, and Viktor wondered, neither for the first nor the last time, what he could be thinking.

They walked side by side, neither one leading once they both realized they had no idea where they were going. A hair's length apart, their skin didn't touch. The moans and wailings of other patients, the wheeling of various carts, all the sounds hastily brushed by them. But Yuuri's eyes were searching, searching, and Viktor was content to lend his quiet heart to Yuuri's trusting palms. He carefully looked over his husband's features and had to come to a halt when he realized Yuuri was behind him now.

He was staring up at a vending machine that Viktor hadn't noticed.

"Viktor─" Yuuri poked a finger to the glass, but pointed at nothing in particular.

Viktor gently laid his hand on Yuuri's quivering waist. "I don't need anyth─"

"─ I think you should go home."

Oh. It was Viktor's hand that was quivering. The smartest response he could muster was a befuddled exhale and a raised eyebrow.

"You're too nervous," Yuuri attempted to explain. "I know being here doesn't really feel like your place, and I don't want you pushing yourself." He twiddled his fingers together, but nothing about it exuded the normally anxious air that surrounded Yuuri at times like this. "Thank you for being here─ for doing a lot, actually."

Viktor wasn't sure what reaction he had, but Yuuri's eyes turned to him in shock. His chest swelled and for a second he thought he might have been falling, the dirty floor below him finally giving out and his knees buckling underneath. But his head stayed poised above Yuuri, his eyes roaming over the mussed locks of his hair. He refused to meet his eyes, casting them downward when Yuuri's fingers reached out to him. His finger pads were arrows of ice and without thinking, Viktor slapped them away before the sting on his cheek worsened from the trails of─

Oh. Tears. _Oh_. That's what he was feeling.

He was mad.

But about what? He couldn't pinpoint it. There was a checklist for times like this, and Viktor being Viktor, he gleaned through it meticulously. He had let Yuuri try to accomplish the surrogacy task on his own. He had given himself as a donor for him and Yuuri. He had given Yuuri all the say about the room, only adding information or opinion when Yuuri asked. He had tried to pick names that Yuuri could pronounce. He had taken care of Yuuri, made sure he was relaxed. He had given the news to Yuuri as best he could. He had dressed Yuuri and driven Yuuri to the hospital. He had said nothing to Yuuri and stayed by his side when it counted. He never left Yuuri's side. And here Yuuri was again, that damn playboy, trying to cast him off again. Like all that he did for Yuuri meant nothing.

"I didn't know you were going to be so selfish again," Viktor murmured, not trusting himself to speak any louder.

Yuuri narrowed his eyes, a frown set on his face that Viktor, despite his anger, wanted to erase and replace with a smile. "What? I'm not being selfish. You heard Nishigori. At least one of us should go home and get some rest. It's getting late, and it'll be even later when all of this is done. It may even be morning before they're born. One of us has to be in their right mind. You're the one who said it wasn't normal for you to be here for these things."

"I said it wasn't the usual thing for _Russian men_ ," Viktor corrected, "not for _me_. I want to be here, Yuuri."

"And I'm telling you that you don't have to force yourself! You've been nervous since we walked into that room."

Viktor cursed himself under his breath. Of course Yuuri would notice every detail of him, like he had of Yuuri. "And what about you? You've been nervous for _weeks_. You need the break more than I do."

"I'm _used_ to being nervous, Viktor. You are not," Yuuri pointed out.

"Your anxiety has never been this high," Viktor rebutted, refusing to let Yuuri use his mental weakness as an excuse. "Since Yuuko told us one of them might not survive─"

Yuuri stopped Viktor right there, a hand on his chest and a serious look on his face. "She never said that!"

Viktor huffed. "Oh, come on. We both _thought_ it. You know underdeveloped and premature babies don't have good chances of─"

" _Shut up!_ " Yuuri's Japanese slipped out, fat tears streaming down his cheeks now.

Oh, and look at him now. Viktor's anger slows, but he's still frustrated that the situation has turned the tables with Yuuri crying once again. How could this have been built up this far? He knew Yuuri was getting nervous this entire time, but it should not have been to this extent. He wanted to stop the tears that were marring rivers onto their cheeks, he wanted to stop the tsunami that was sweeping them apart, and he wanted to hold him close again more than anything. But they were too far apart, the rift between them snapping that bridge they had been clinging to earlier. The only thing left to do was to grip onto their respective sides, climb back up, and start building another, stronger bridge.

They decided that Viktor would go home, in part for two reasons: so that Yuuri would be happy and so that the flustering storm of Japanese that would be spoken by everyone else in the coming hours didn't have to be constantly translated. Viktor knew Yuuri believed him to be someone who could fall asleep at will, thus having the ability to actually rest like he was told. But when he got home and flopped onto their bed, covers crinkled and unmade from their previous activities, his mind did everything but sleep, waiting for a phone call that would tell him that their children were born and he could come see them.

Yuuri, conversely, reentered the hospital room alone. Nishigori glanced up from his seat he pulled next to Yuuko and his lips parted in question, but he decided not to ask. He'd seen the red-rimmed eyes behind those blue frames before. It was incredulous: they had to pick a fight with each other now? Of all times? But Nishigori figured that the pair had worked out their problems before and that this was merely their agreement of terms for the meantime. On his own, Yuuri told them that Viktor went home to rest and prepare the house.

Yet more hours passed and Yuuko's contractions were so close together that they were nearly constant.  The sun had long gone and the fluorescent lights behind dimmed plastic cases lit the room from above. Different doctors and nurses flowed in and out, procedures and needles and words of encouragement were carried out without much being done in the end. The last piece of news they were told was that she was now eight centimeters dilated and that they wanted her to start changing her position to prepare. Yuuri, at the command of a distressed Yuuko, brought his chair to the other side of her bed and bit his lip, not knowing if she was truly angry at him too or if she was in need of a friend.

Both turned out to be true.

To distract from that, however, Yuuko tried to keep talking for Yuuri's sake. He found himself wondering, yet again, what he did to deserve friends like her.

"You and Viktor will be parents soon, Yuuri," Yuuko smiled with her eyes closed so that the man wouldn't seen the pain she was being subjected to; he could see it plainly enough as it was. "You've waited so long."

Yuuri nodded, reciprocating her smile. "We're incredibly grateful."

"You better be─" her breaths staggered as another contraction rippled through her. "H-have─ have you guys picked their names yet?"

At the question, he dropped his gaze. No, they had been playing silly games. Yuuri had been stupid with anxiety and not told Viktor until the last possible moment, and they'd argued briefly over the names before attempting to have sex as a way of procrastinating. The strange object still in his ass was a testament to that much. They had been stunting their communication with each other, yet again. Not saying anything, taking their advices to each other too literally to be healthy. So, long story short: "We have options."

Yuuko seemed satisfied with that answer and didn't press further.

One of the procedures that had happened while Yuuri had been within his mind was the epidural. Yuuko looked considerably less uncomfortable, although she complained that it barely touched her. But after three more hours and numerous indescribably painful contractions later, the doctors came back to check on her progress.

Or lack thereof, seeing as she was still dilated to eight centimeters. Yuuko, sweat dripping freely from her forehead, swore at them to do _something_ , the changes in her body wrestling with her sanity. Yuuri flinched away, but Yuuko grabbed at his hand before he could retract completely.

"Don't you _dare_ ," she warned, "this is for _you_ and _Viktor_. You're not allowed to skip out _nooowwwww_ ," her sentence dissolved into an unhealthy sound akin to a groan, a grunt, and a pained scream. Doctors and nurses were staying in the room now, switching out now and again to gather supplies. Despite her cervix not being dilated completely, it seemed they wanted to come out and they wanted to do that _now_.

One of the doctors came up to them, talking more to Nishigori and Yuuri than Yuuko at this stage. "We can give her something that will stimulate the cervix, but it might─"

"DO IT NOW!" Yuuko looked like she was about to bite their heads off, and probably would if she weren't necessarily so preoccupied. Yuuri and Nishigori had no objections for the fear that she might kill them later otherwise.

At three in the morning, Yuuko was ready to push.

At three in the morning, Viktor was startled by his phone lighting up and the ringtone beginning a heartbeat later. He hadn't been asleep, but he had been lulled into the false sense of insecurity that the dark room was never going to see light again, that he would be stuck perpetually in this limbo of uncertainty. He picked up the phone, nearly dropping it in the process.

" _Hello?_ " Viktor spoke in Japanese; a habit he'd picked up after living here for so long.

" _Viktor, she's pushing now. They're on their way. You need to get over here_ ─" the rushed Japanese over the phone was too much to handle, what with the tinny reception and the background noises of clicking and clacking and yelling and screaming and Yuuri's pained voice.

"Yuuri? Yuuri!" Viktor was shuffling into his boots, gripping his jacket in anticipation. "Slow down, or English, please. What's going on?"

"They're coming, Viktor! Get over here!" Yuuri hung up.

* * *

The first child came through after an hour and a half, Yuuko sighing in relative relief, her voice like she swallowed gravel. Before Yuuri could see it fully, however, it was taken away by several nurses in bloodsoaked towels. His stomach heaved and he cradled his hand─ the hand Yuuko had crushed and grinded into dust─ over it. The hectic atmosphere aggravated his nerves and the lack of sleep deepened the dead look in his eyes. All this way and the baby had to be taken out of the room, away from him? The fates must have deigned him ill-fit and unprepared. Perhaps it was for the better: Viktor hadn't shown up yet.

It was impossible to speak out here, his conscience overwhelmed by the flurry of activity around him. Yuuko was pushing again and she grabbed the same hand Yuuri was cradling back to good health. But the pain didn't reach him this time. Yuuko would have been jealous, he thought dimly. His consciousness detached him from the situation. From the brief seconds he'd seen of the first baby, it was hard to tell if it was the healthier one of the two. He wouldn't know for sure until the second one was out.

The rest of the labor went by before Yuuri could fully comprehend. The noise slowly died out, replaced with an unsettling quiet. Yuuko was sleeping and Nishigori was caring for her and her things. He motioned for Yuuri to walk out of the room with him after he'd finished.

"When's Viktor supposed to get here?" Nishigori looked around the wing once he closed the door behind them. It was 5am and they had been up for far over twenty-four hours now.

Yuuri shook his head, but the motion wasn't smooth.

Nishigori sensed the subject was a wound that had salt being poured into it at the moment, so he nodded his head toward one end of the hall. "Let's walk around for a bit. He knows where to go and he'll wait here for you."

Yuuri was about to tell Nishigori not to treat him like an antsy kid, but he knew better than to turn down any kindness given to him at this point in time. The halls didn't seem real, the glass panes of windows into other rooms and wooden doors left ajar were blurry and out of focus. Yuuri wanted to curl up and fall asleep, exhaustion heavy on his eyelids, but his body said otherwise. No one told him, nothing _prepared_ him, about the time between birth and─ well, whatever was supposed to come next, before they could go home. If they could go home.

Nishigori mentioned as they turned down another hall that one of them looked small─ they both looked small, so really, one was just _smaller_ ─ and may still be in the NICU. The doctor had come in before Yuuko fell asleep. He told them that one child had to be moved to the neonatal intensive care unit, but the other was still in the standard baby unit for premature newborns. When the other was stable, they would put them together and the new parents could see them. The doctor had apologized profusely; there were many complications and one of them needed immediate intubation because the lungs were malformed, which was why they were rushed out so quickly. Both being premature, however, meant that even the healthier one had to be put in a special incubator as well. They would be put in the same room as soon as both were stabilized, the doctor insisted. The information repeated and swirled so much that Yuuri barely registered any of it.

Nishigori had brought them to the outermost waiting room by the entrance to the hospital. Yuuri glanced at him quizzically, but Nishigori just shrugged. Better to wait for Viktor here, he figured. Japanese signs written in kanji still weren't his strong suit, everyone knew that.

They waited there until the sun threatened to break over the horizon and flood the world with new light. With a start, Yuuri realized he hadn't checked his phone since Viktor left. He patted his pants pockets and shoved his hand into the left one, digging out his phone and unlocking it. The battery was dangerously low, but there were also three voicemails. Heart dropping into his gut, Yuuri opened them and put the phone to his ear, the crackling of the recording hurting his ears but he listened anyway.

" _Hey, Yuuri. There's a lot of traffic. I don't know what's going on. I'll be a little late, but I promise I'll be there when they are._ "

Yuuri nodded to himself. Normal, straight-to-the-point, coach-like Viktor voicemail. Nothing bad yet. Next one was an hour after the first voicemail, around 4am.

" _Yuuri, there was some sort of accident. They're not letting anyone through. They're talking to me and I don't know what they're saying. Yuuri, please, look at your phone."_

The pleading tone took a hold of Yuuri's chest and squeezed. Nishigori noticed the change in him and gently laid a hand on his armrest. He waited until Yuuri was finished listening to the messages.

There was one last message. It was from ten minutes ago. " _Yuuri, I_ ─ _don't be mad. I went and parked the car somewhere. I don't know if I was supposed to park there and the car might get towed, but I'm walking to the hospital now. I can't_ ─ _Yuuri, I'm_ _sorry_." Viktor's voice was struggling not to slip into Russian, his own anxiety still an honest shock to Yuuri. _"I shouldn't have left you there to deal with this on your own. Are they here yet? I can't wait to see them, Yuuri. I can't wait to see yo_ ─"

The voicemail was cut short and Yuuri panicked for a moment. He took the phone away from his ear only to find that the screen wasn't lighting up again. It was dead. It gave him some relief, knowing it wasn't dropped on Viktor's end due to Viktor being in trouble.

Then Nishigori tapped his shoulder. Yuuri pocketed his phone and faced him, only to see him pointing to something beyond them. Yuuri's head swiveled quick enough to give himself whiplash.

Viktor was running toward the hospital entrance. Before he realized it, Yuuri's feet were scrambling to grip the floor and push forward, his body instinctively driving toward Viktor. The only thing he noticed was Viktor's face, slowly becoming more defined, lines of worry and fear etched beneath his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. If this were any other time, Yuuri would have greeted him with a comment about his 'old age.' But Yuuri was only thinking that they were just a few seconds away from each other, away from loving arms. The glass doors couldn't sense their urgency and for that, Yuuri shuffled his feet in agitation. Viktor, on the other side of the second set of double doors, was practically doing the same. He wore a blue sweatshirt and loose, thin sweatpants and had a sports bag slung over his shoulders. His hair was sticking every which way but the way it normally did, a sign that he hadn't slept either, despite Yuuri's instructions. Like coach, like student.

As soon as the mechanical doors swished open, Yuuri and Viktor both ran into each other's arms, bumping awkwardly into the hug but clinging tightly nonetheless. Viktor's hand instantly cradled Yuuri's head and his shoulders shivered, partially from the AC blasting from the vents above them. They stood there for a moment, not needing words just yet.

Viktor thought Yuuri looked like an absolute wreck and wanted to kick himself in the ass for ever leaving at all. He shared his thoughts in low, disbelieving whispers and Yuuri shook his head, leading Viktor back into the waiting room and over to Nishigori. After they brought Viktor up to date on what was going on, his barely-held-together facade threatening to crack. Not that it would have looked any different to Yuuri. They both knew each other well enough to see where they were mentally right now. Viktor kept his arm around Yuuri as they walked back to Yuuko's room.

"Yuuri," Viktor muttered, feeling too loud in such a quiet corridor, "have you seen them yet?"

"Not yet," Yuuri rubbed his arm below where Viktor's hand lay, "I never even got to see if they were boys or girls."

Before they could continue their conversation, a nurse going the opposite stopped them. She informed them that she had tried to check their room but that they were gone. The twins were moved to the same post-maternity baby unit and the parents could move in there now. Viktor and Yuuri split off from Nishigori and followed the nurse up a flight of stairs and down several more hallways. Each step that brought them closer sent urgent shocks down their spines. Anything that the nurse was telling them went through one ear and out the other.

So when she finally opened the door to their private room, the blast of hot air confused them. Inside, the room was dimly lit and a small standard futon was tucked into the corner. Before that, there was a sink. The nurse asked them, again, to wash their hands each time they entered the room because the newborns would be very prone to infection. Caught between wanting to _finally_ see their new family and not wanting to get them sick, Yuuri and Viktor crowded the sink and eventually ended up washing each other's hands as much as their own.  Viktor set his bag onto the futon and they stepped further inside.

What came next looked like it was out of a sci-fi movie. There was steel and pristine white equipment littering the walls and taking up the floor space. Almost everything had wheels and there were wires upon wires upon wires of all different colors connecting one piece to another in some sensible way that they had yet to understand. Monitors beeped and tubes whirred, bags of saline and other solutions dripped. Heat lamps hung over large, sterile glass cases with glove holes on the sides. Puzzled, Yuuri walked up to one, only to be startled by a tiny, frail limb that wobbled up into view. His gasp was sharp and it hurt his throat, so he covered his mouth in an attempt to recover himself.

Viktor was next to him in a heartbeat. He exhaled briefly, taking in the same sight.

The baby's skin was reddish and there appeared to be dark, thin hair over the soft head. Tubes and masks held together with velcro and medical tape covered most of its body. Its eyes were squeezed shut, crusted. Bones jutted against the skin. It looked...

Sickly.

"For being premature and underdeveloped," the nurse butts in─ they had both forgotten she was there─ "he's responding to us well. He had to be intubated, but his lungs should be their proper size in a few days. Don't worry about all of the equipment; he'll be able to take it off soon."

They nodded together and Viktor turned to the other incubator, peering down. This baby was sleeping more or less peacefully, chest rising and falling lightly. The nurse added that the girl was doing just fine, if not better than fine, but she would need to stay in the incubator just as long because she was still premature and several tests needed to be run.

"Girl?" Yuuri looked up from the boy's incubator. "They're fraternal?"

The nurse answered in the affirmative, gave them some rules and a nurse call button, and softly clicked the door shut on her way out.

Left suddenly alone, neither person could utter a word. Yuuri turned to Viktor. Viktor, hearing his husband shifting, also turned. They met halfway and cradled each other in an eggshell embrace. Yuuri nuzzled his face into Viktor's shoulder, tears beginning to stain the fabric. Viktor leaned his head onto Yuuri's, their greasy hair pressing together without care. His hand held the back of Yuuri's head again─ it was the best way he knew to keep Yuuri together─ but his other arm stayed at Yuuri's waist. As for Yuuri, he had his arms entirely around Viktor's midsection, gripping and clawing at Viktor's coat in quiet desperation. Despite the precarious state the four of them were now in, something like relief shuddered through them.

"They're here..."

* * *

Viktor and Yuuri spent long hours, over several days, in the special room. They took turns napping on the futon, but the first time they both crashed onto the piece of furniture together. They slept fitfully but it was the best they could manage. Viktor had brought with him changes of clothing and some food for them, their headphones and laptops, and some toiletries that he had scrounged at the last minute. They barely spoke, only breaking the silence to watch over the newborns and point out something cute, or to tell the other to nap or take a shower. Their eyes were weary and limbs were heavy, but they were surviving. And, much to their growing happiness, so were their newborn children.

Aside from the Nishigoris─ who came by several times to give them bottles of breast milk for the healthier twin that was now old enough to stomach it─ Hiroko and Minako visited. The girl was able to be held and fed, so anyone who visited was welcome to help do so, especially since both parents looked beyond exhausted. They'd passed simple exhaustion on that first day and were now in a state that, despite having been able to sleep a moderate amount, rivaled death. Still, there were weak smiles on their faces and they put their entire attention toward the health of their little ones. The boy still could not come out of the incubator, but they refused to leave with the girl until the boy was ready as well. Hiroko had even offered to take the girl home so that she could begin getting used to life outside the hospital, but Yuuri couldn't stomach it. He needed to be near them. Viktor couldn't bring himself to talk Yuuri out of his conviction.

It wasn't until three days later, and several short trips home to change clothing, shower, and feed themselves, that Yuuri and Viktor were told they could finally take their loved ones home. For the first time, the boy was lifted out, the machinery stripped of his now pale and smooth skin, and the Russian wrap that Viktor had brought from home was fitted around him. The girl had her wrap on as well, nestled into Yuuri's arms and sleeping peacefully.

His heart was bursting, glass shattering and reforming into a shape that Yuuri never knew existed. The girl looked a lot like Viktor, her hair still not quite growing yet, but he could tell it was going to be the same silver. Her eyes, however, were different. One was a brilliant, dark sapphire associated with most newborns, but her right eye was the opposite: an intense shade of brown. The doctors assured them that the heterochromia was a harmless birth defect and that they had run all the tests and her sight was just fine.

Viktor had been the first to hold her outside of the incubator a few days prior. Through the haze of these first few days, Yuuri remembered his husband's face clearly. It was the same look he'd had when Yuuri had landed his quad flip at the Grand Prix, with tears escaping from the far corners and streaming over his cheekbones and his sea glass eyes shimmering beyond comparison. A single tear had fallen onto her cheek, and Viktor wiped it away with such gentle kindness before curling his parted lips into a smile. She was the only thing he saw in that moment. Yuuri didn't want to disrupt it. He would have his turn with her in his arms soon enough.

"Yukiko," Viktor had whispered before handing her to him, her weight shifting inside her wrap from the change in position.

Yuuri swore he was about to drop her when he heard what Viktor said. He pulled her close, heart pounding against his chest, and let her become a part of him, an extension of his love. That was when he had seen her different colored eyes for the first time. 由希子... A 'rare child,' indeed.

The boy, on the other hand, looked too much like Yuuri's side of the family. Black tufts of hair were beginning to grow in and his tiny shaking mannerisms reminded him too much of himself. The baby had gained more weight, the sallow complexion now a healthy pink, and his lungs were breathing on their own accord. Viktor had also held him first, back when the tubing was still connected to the baby. Yuuri's brown eyes were soft and brimming with this ache in his chest at the sight.

"Did you want me to name him, too?" Viktor whispered, when the boy's eyes blinked unsteadily, revealing the brightest, deepest oceans. They were Viktor's eyes.

Yuuri shook his head absentmindedly, Yukiko propped against his chest. He took a free arm to attach himself to Viktor and laid his head on his shoulder. His eyes hadn't left the boy's, as incredibly _Viktor_ as they were. Love drowned his senses.

When Viktor didn't receive a more vocal answer, he brought the boy closer to his face, pressing his lips to the tiny forehead and resting them there in contemplation. The boy cooed under the touch, shifting closer to the warmth. "How about─"

"Mikhail," Yuuri said, barely registering that he had cut Viktor off.

Viktor looked up to meet Yuuri's eyes. The name had rolled off his tongue, filling the air between them and echoing in his ears. All Viktor could do was close his mouth that he realized had been open in a small gape. "Y-you pronounced it right..." Or, in their tired state, mostly right, but Viktor wasn't going to complain. Anything Yuuri said with his accent sounded perfect.

"Mikhail," Yuuri said again, caressing the newborn boy with an easy fondness. "It fits him."

Viktor didn't have to look again to make sure, but he did anyway because he was looking at his _son_ and his _daughter_ was in his husband's arms and they were together and _complete._ The room was too small for the emotions that it contained.

"You're right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS TOOK SO LONG!!!!!!!
> 
> I had more to add, but I was already trying to take my time with this chapter, and my heart was screaming at me to keep going and well I ended up with this. I've only read through it twice for mistakes so there may still be some. Let me know if there are any particularly bad ones!
> 
> Now let's see how these poor sleep-deprived parents deal with the first few weeks on their own (ft. some domestic fanart)!


	8. Let's Go!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into the adventures of new parents Yuuri and Viktor! ft. Makkachin the Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my dumb brain thought I'd already posted this chapter, like, days ago. I thought I had a couple days before the chapter after this, only to find that - surprise, surprise - this chapter never actually got uploaded. And for that, I'm so, so sorry! I hope it's cute enough that you'll forgive me! ;-;
> 
> EDIT (IMPORTANT!): The fanart link is embedded at the end of the chapter because it won't show up correctly, but you can also check it out on my DA page (also Noon30ish) here: http://noon30ish.deviantart.com/art/Lullabies-for-Lyubov-656207508

"Yuuri!" A voice floated unevenly through the darkness. "Yuuri!"

Said man curved in a stretch toward his husband's side of the bed, yearning to shut him up, curl up, and catch up on sleep they'd been missing out on. His back cracked and a wave of bliss relaxed him, his body a starfish across the whole bed.

"YUURI!!"

Much louder this time, he sprang upward, the gasp in his lungs making him cough in the process. He grabbed his glasses in a sense of urgency, looking around to get his bearings. Still not seeing much, he turned on the lamp on the side table. Dim amber light was cast around him. The room was a mess, not just the bed. Clothes were strewn over chairs and across their dresser, glasses and plates with puddles and crumbs were left to clutter random spots on the floor. One bassinet stood on each side of the bed, and both had small lopsided mattresses spilling over the mini railings. A tiny hospital blanket had fallen out of one of them and a familiar fleece wrap from the other.

Yuuri rubbed the sleep sands from his eyes and blinked. Where was─

"Yuuri!" An exasperated Viktor appeared in their doorway, his hair disheveled and lacking its usual flare and his body clad only in stained sweatpants. There were lines underneath his eyes. He had both newborns in his arms, one of them making significantly more noises. "You're such a heavy sleeper. Here, can you take Mikhail? He's been fussy for an hour now. I can't figure out what he wants."

Rolling his shoulders, Yuuri nodded and took the smaller bundle into his arms. Mikhail's eyes were scrunched shut and his mouth was agape with not-so-quiet whimpers. Yuuri bounced his arms gently, a trick his mom had told him worked on him when he was a baby. But Mikhail wouldn't have it. Yawning, Yuuri stood and nearly fell over. He couldn't remember how long he'd been asleep for, so he looked over to the alarm clock and promptly stopped mid-yawn.

"It's 3:30 in the morning," Yuuri complained, "I thought we finally got them to sleep at midnight!"

Viktor had his free hand around Yuuri's shoulders, keeping his exhausted husband on his feet. "We did. They don't seem to like the concept of sleep."

Yuuri grumbled something akin to agreement and made his way to their kitchen, the harsh lights making him squint behind his glasses. Mikhail let out a short wail and Yuuri responded by bouncing on his heels, the movements so slight they were more like tremors. He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of breast milk that Yuuko had given them. She really was doing too much for them, Yuuri thought.

He almost fed it to Mikhail then and there, the little boy's arms struggling to reach out. Then a spot of brilliance came to Yuuri and he remembered he had to warm it first. Raising his eyebrows in an effort to scold himself, he sauntered over to the microwave. But upon opening it, he saw that there was already a bottle in there. Confused, he switched them out and found that this bottle was already warm.

"Viktor? When did you warm this?" he asked, calling over his shoulder.

"Dunno," Viktor came into the kitchen, Yukiko resting against his shoulder and pulling at his hair in a fit.

Shrugging, Yuuri shook it and squeezed some onto Viktor's wrist to test the temperature. "Is that okay?"

Viktor furrowed his brows as he wiped it off. He then proceeded and failed to get Yukiko's death grip off of his hair. The worry of going bald before the twins reached one year was all too real. "I don't want any."

Yuuri sighed. It was too early for this. "It's for the _baby_ , you idiot."

Not listening for an answer, he brought the bottle to Mikhail's mouth, tipping it slightly. His sapphire eyes opened at the sensation and his toothless mouth went to town on the bottle's tip. Relief coursed through Yuuri. He glanced over at Viktor, who had finally gotten Yukiko to loosen her fists only to have her crying again. "I thought you said Mikhail didn't want anything? Did you even try and feed him?"

Viktor paused. "Maybe that's why there was a bottle in the microwave..."

Yuuri shook his head. They had brought the twins home less than a week ago and yet it felt like forever, day and night no longer accurate indications of time. The only thing that kept them on track half the time were the two appointments Mikhail already had scheduled apart from their generic checkups. He was still behind in almost everything compared to his twin sister, and his lungs were far from perfect. When Yuuri's mind would function properly for all of five minutes, he fretted over it until his stomach twisted into knots. Viktor, despite being just as lost in this tiring haze, could always sense Yuuri's distress and stayed by his side and watched over him. Yuuri wanted to tell Viktor to stop worrying about him, but that would make him a hypocrite, wouldn't it?

It took Mikhail practically shoving the bottle away and kicking it to the floor to shake Yuuri of his reverie. He muttered a curse and bent over to pick it up.

Viktor was too tired to even lean over for a quick glance at that beautiful butt. Yukiko would probably punch him for looking, anyway. She somehow had a way of knowing when her father was being inappropriate. Although right now she was reaching for that same bottle, so Viktor succumbed and grabbed the bottle before Yuuri did.

"As long as one of them wants it, right?" Viktor tipped the bottle and Yukiko sucked greedily.

Yuuri was still crouched on the floor, and finding no solid reason for standing back up he slumped all the way to the floor. His head thumped against the cabinet. His spine was leaning awkwardly against the knob, but he found it hurt less than he thought it would. Mikhail was still fussing in his arms. Yuuri, in a last-ditch effort, curled around the baby and hummed desperately, his forehead to Mikhail's. The sudden warmth must have done wonders, because the boy's cries subsided to small hiccups and sad coos.

The silence of their house was a welcome change from the constant running and cleaning and crying and ransacking. They both smelled like they needed a shower and the house didn't fare much better in that department. No matter how many times they cleaned various baby messes, nothing seemed to abate their senses. Yuuri always groaned when something new happened, because as much as he'd read about parenting, nothing had really prepared him for this. He wasn't regretting it, though. Far from it.

The feeling of skin against his arm told him that Viktor had joined him on the floor and Yuuri, without looking up from Mikhail, let his body slide across the cabinet and lean onto Viktor. His husband let out a little grunt when Yuuri's full weight hit him, but otherwise he didn't protest. Both were just happy to listen to the four breaths between them. Two were long and slow, two were sputtering with snot and inexperience.

Yuuri picked up his head, taking a great deal more effort than he thought it should, and nuzzled into Viktor's shoulder. His eyes couldn't leave Mikhail's even if he tried. They were a perfect copy of Viktor's, even if they were darker, the deep depths of the oceans being the closest comparison. Large and round, they expressed so much curiosity although his body was far from capable of exploring everything he looked at. Yuuri absently brushed a finger over the puffy cheek and Mikhail closed his eyes and followed the touch.

Viktor pressed a kiss to the top of Yuuri's head. "He looks like you when you sleep," he whispered, his breath a pleasant tickle.

"You telling me I look like a baby?" Yuuri narrowed his eyes in Viktor's direction, Mikhail shifting suddenly.

Viktor chuckled quietly. "Sort of. Mikhail drools less than you do."

Yuuri didn't have the strength to retaliate, so he leaned away from Viktor instead, the meaning behind it clear when Viktor saw the pout on Yuuri's face. Mikhail coughed at that moment, the sound a jarring, trembling sensation. The coughs racked his body, his lungs quivering and tears beginning to form. It woke an ever cheerful Makkachin from his slumber, who slowly made his way toward them and whined low in concern.

"Oh no," Yuuri forced himself to stand, a hand gripping the counter, "where's his puffer?"

The hospital, on their last visit, had given them a small inhaler with an incredibly small dose meant for asthma. Mikhail's lungs needed the help every once in awhile. Fits of coughing were slowing down, thankfully, but the intensity was nothing to joke about. One time, during a particularly nasty attack earlier in the week, Yuuri was scared that their baby was turning blue. Viktor had been the one to calm both of them, despite barely knowing how the contraption worked. Then he set it down... where did he last see that tube?

Viktor shook his head, knowing he wasn't going to be much help. "Makkachin," Viktor whistled, getting the dog's attention, "where's the puff-puff, huh?"

"Makkachin's an old dog, Viktor," Yuuri chided, "and how would he even know what that is?"

Makkachin huffed, offended, and sulked into the living room, his tail wagging in petulance. A moment passed before he came back, a small object in his mouth. Mikhail coughed again, his tiny frame reacting a little more violently. Yuuri, shaking his head in disbelief, took the puffer from Makkachin and proceeded to wipe off the slobber before using it. He pressed the nose and mouth piece to Mikhail and squeezed the little ball at the other end, sending the medicine across the tubing. Slowly, slowly, Yuuri timed it with his breathing and Mikhail's snorts lessened, his wavering hands stilling and resting when his lungs decided they wanted to work again.

" _Yuuri_ ," Viktor mumbled low in mock warning, "say 'thank you' to Makkachin."

Yuuri rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Makkachin." Satisfied that Mikhail was breathing on his own again, he set the puffer on the counter next to the second, cold bottle of breast milk that he had sworn he put away. Well, whatever. He put the bottle away.

Viktor stood up as well when Yukiko stopped drinking from the bottle. "I think they might be willing to sleep again. Let's try and get some ourselves, okay?"

Yuuri nodded. "Is it okay, after I put Mikhail down, for me to go shower? I'll be quick. Yell for me if anything happens." He grabbed the puffer and put it in Viktor's hands only to realize something.

He'd actually put the cold milk bottle in Viktor's hands and the puffer was sitting in the fridge.

Viktor laughed, pecking Yuuri's cheek. "I think I'll be fine," he said as he switched the two items and then held his hand out after putting the puffer on top of Yukiko, "c'mere, Mishka. Papa'll put you to bed."

Yuuri's tired heart melted at the pure affection that came from Viktor. His eyes were shimmering as he held their children in his arms, his smile widening despite the amount of fatigue lining his features. Yuuri couldn't help returning the peck to Viktor's cheek, lingering in his space for a moment longer than Viktor had done.

The Russian closed his eyes at the touch, his smile going from innocent to cheeky. "Go take your shower."

* * *

It took a few weeks before the twins settled into a sleep schedule. It wasn't a pretty schedule, judging by the purples above their cheeks and bloodshot eyes that were obvious even through the terrible quality of the Skype call. Yuuri had his laptop laid across his and Viktor's thighs, the blue light of the webcam shining an inconvenient glare on his glasses. He took them off and handed them to Viktor, who then almost dropped them into the bassinet instead of placing them on the side table. Catching his mistake, he set them down and peered into the bassinet, checking to see how Mikhail was sleeping. It was their 7pm nap time, so they'd be asleep for two hours at least. They'd both had their fill of the breast milk, so unless either of them was too loud, the twins would be out for a good while.

"Hi, Phichit," Yuuri whispered, his eyes on Viktor and the bassinet before he turned to look at his friend, "how are you?"

"I'm good," Phichit over-exaggerated his whisper, "why haven't you posted any pictures yet?"

Viktor tried to bite back a laugh, still gazing at his son, but a soft snort escaped anyway. Yuuri nudged him with an elbow. Viktor, satisfied that Mikhail was fine, turned his eyes to the screen finally and waved. "We wanted to keep them to ourselves for a little while."

"Besides, we look terrible," Yuuri added. And Phichit had to agree, they looked worn out to the extreme. Worse than after their exhibition pair skate, which was impressive considering the physical exertion of the lifts and leads had them nearly collapsing on the ice.

" _I_ look terrible. _You_ look beautiful," Viktor corrected him. "Besides, I can't post pictures; I have an image to uphold," he gestured from his head to his waist. He was clad in a sloppy v-neck that was so wrinkled he resigned to the idea that not even the hottest iron could fix it. If Phichit looked closely, he could see several stains near the shoulder.

Yuuri just sat there blushing. His head angled away, he checked in on Yukiko in the opposite bassinet. She was sprawled out, the spitting image of her father who _loved_ to take up the whole bed whenever Yuuri changed positions to curl in on himself. She'd already grown so much and the bassinet was perhaps a week away from being too small. She'd have to move to the children's room to the full crib. The thought that he'd have to part with their children every night left a little bittersweet tinge in his heart. They'd been sleeping in the same room with them since they entered the world and the noise of their gentle breaths had been an immense comfort. Especially for Yuuri's anxiety, which had been a miracle. She hiccupped and stirred a little, but apart from that, she was peaceful.

"Can I see them now?" Phichit perked up. "Please, please, plleeeeeaaaaassee?"

Viktor picked up the laptop before Yuuri could say anything. "Of course! Look, here's our baby boy! His name's Mikhail," Viktor pointed the webcam into the bassinet, proud as he could possibly be. Yuuri had dread pooling in his gut when he realized that Viktor might be the father to carry thousands of pictures of his children in his wallet. The blush on his cheeks didn't go away, but the reason behind them shifted.

"And this one," Viktor clambered over Yuuri without warning, kneeing him in the gut and elbowing his face, to point the camera into the other bassinet, "is Yukiko! She's got these really pretty eyes that are two different colors! She's awfully big already, isn't she?"

Viktor "here-look-these-are-my-children-isn't-each-picture-adorable-I-have-them-all-framed-at-home-too-let-me-shove-them-in-your-face-while-gushing-about-how-cute-they-are" Nikiforov was at it again.

A tinny squeal from the computer speakers was the response. "They're so cute, guys! Congratulations! No wonder you're hiding them! Anybody would be envious!"

"Trust me," Yuuri pulled Viktor back to his original position and took the laptop away from him, "nobody's envious of getting no sleep and wearing puke and poop as accessories."

Phichit scrunched his face together like he ate something really sour. "Guess not. Still, they are adorable. You guys make beautiful babies."

" _Phichit!_ " Yuuri tried not to yell. His friend said some weird things sometimes. "They're not technically _mine_ and Viktor's, you know."

"Of course they are, Yuuri," Viktor put and arm around him and pressed their cheeks together, rubbing fondly, "haven't you seen your tummy? You gained more pregnancy weight than Yuuko!" The jest was made in whole-hearted fun as Viktor pat the small bit of extra stomach, and Yuuri knew he didn't mean it, but it still kind of hurt.

"S-shut up," Yuuri folded his arms, "you have some pudge on yourself now, too."

"Nuh-uh!" Viktor cried out, present mindfulness tossed out the window. He couldn't handle jokes the way he could churn them out and as a result, a pout was planted firmly on his lips.

Both of them stiffened when a little squeak came from Yukiko's bassinet. Then a foot came into view, leg lifted high. Then a hand. Then both limbs slammed back down onto the tiny mattress. Small sniffles and coos slowly became more aware of themselves and the movements happened again, more urgent. A stunted half-cry broke the atmosphere. Viktor cursed under his breath.

"Your fault," Yuuri muttered as he reached over and picked Yukiko up. Her silver hair was already beginning to grow in, tufts too short to be affected by gravity just yet. He cradled her, a hand caressing her cheek. Sleepiness kept her from arousing fully, her mouth popping open to yawn. At the end, something caught, and she sneezed. Cooing a couple of times, she wriggled around and settled again.

Yuuri let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Viktor held the same sentiment. Phichit, who had clamped a hand over his own mouth, let it fall when Yukiko stopped. If there was ever a moment for a collective sigh, now would have been perfect.

"Do you want me to leave you guys to it, then?" Phichit hazarded quietly.

Yuuri, whose heart was still beating fast from apprehension and overwhelming love, almost forgot that Phichit was there. "I think she's sleeping again, but yeah, we've got some stuff to do around the house and we should do them while we still have both sets of hands free."

"Okay," Phichit nodded, "let me know when a good time for me to visit opens up, yeah?"

Yuuri and Viktor hummed in agreement. "Take care," Viktor said before his eyes turned back to look at his husband and daughter. Yuuri also muttered a goodbye and Phichit took it upon himself to end the call, seeing as the pair was already enveloped by other matters.

Viktor could stare at Yuuri holding their children forever. The steady glimmer in the Japanese man's eyes was different from his usual searching expression. This was more like he'd already found what he was looking for. Yukiko's tongue darted out involuntarily, and Viktor noticed that Yuuri's smile widened, his cheeks pushing up his eyes and gaining a bit of color in the process. Not wasting a moment, Viktor carefully grabbed his cell phone and went to the camera. Angling it with only his wrist, he wanted to make sure Yuuri didn't catch on. His best, most beautiful features happened when he thought nobody was watching. Tapping the screen, he realized too late that the volume on his phone wasn't turned down. But it didn't matter. He got the picture.

"Viktor..." Yuuri groaned, but didn't look up. "You better delete that."

"No," Viktor pursed his lips, petulant, and made it his lock screen photo instead. To change the subject before Yuuri made a move to steal away his precious phone, Viktor playfully pinched at Yukiko's clothed foot that stuck out over Yuuri's arm. "I think she might be able to fit in that cat onesie Yurio bought them. What do you say we change her into that when she wakes up?"

Yuuri was about to tell Viktor that the trick wasn't going to work, but then his nostrils caught something. Scrunching his nose and handing the baby over to Viktor, he decided otherwise. "How about _you_ change her into it after you change her diaper?"

Viktor took her because he really didn't have any other choice. Not if he wanted to keep the photo. "I always change her diaper after this nap, though," he complained, straining his voice as he focused on getting out of bed with the added weight in his arms.

"We both agreed that you get anything after 6pm and I get anything after 6am," Yuuri reminded him, "fair's fair."

"But she always does this; the same thing at the same time!" Viktor held her out Lion King-style as if to prove his point. "She has some sort of vendetta against me, I know it."

"Not my problem," Yuuri shrugged indifferently before he got off the bed to go do one of the other hundred chores with which they'd fallen behind.

* * *

When Yuuri climbed out of the shower, he hastily toweled off. Lying on a plush blanket on the floor with a travel mobile poised above her, Yukiko giggled. The ends of her giggles always turned into teensy, excited shrieks that Yuuri swore was too high a frequency for humans. She turned toward him when he came into view and a smile that showcased her gums lit up the whole room. He tossed the towel into the hamper and began dressing himself. In the middle of it, however, he observed that he had in fact grabbed one of Viktor's shirts. Grinning to himself, he donned it and adjusted the sleeves. Yukiko continued her little giggles and indiscernible ramblings.

"Did you have fun all by yourself?" Yuuri asked her, not expecting an answer. " _Otou-chan_ told you he wouldn't be long. You ready for your bath?"

He picked her up and gave her an Eskimo kiss. In response, her itty bitty fingers tried to pull at his cheeks, her reflexes still shaky and inexperienced. In a little bout of frustration, she clapped his cheeks and giggled when he winced.

"Okay, okay," Yuuri conceded, "I know, you only like baths when Papa does it, but he's busy right now. You've gotta deal with me this time, alright?"

It was something about Viktor that made baths much more soothing. Yuuri knew this personally; both from being the one in the bath and from helping Viktor bathe Makkachin. Maybe it was the oils he dripped into the water, or the lotions he used, or his careful, delicate fingers kneading all the right spots. He remembered a time in the hot springs when Viktor had given him a post-workout massage, before they'd talked about what exactly they were. It had been so good that Yuuri had leaned against Viktor, half asleep. When it was over, he'd realized that he was in Viktor's embrace, their skin brushing gently under the water. In hindsight, he wished he hadn't jumped out the hot springs and ran away.

Well, either way, he knew his bathing skills were woefully inadequate. And _he_ was supposed to be the one that grew up at a hot springs resort.

He set her down in the miniature tub he'd filled with lukewarm water and started pouring a gentle stream over her. Yukiko's face went blank, her body shivering a little. Yuuri turned the temperature knob ever so slightly and tried again. After a minute of going back and forth, he concluded that Yukiko was just messing with him and lathered some baby soap in his palms.

When Yukiko's bath was finished, Yuuri buried her in a fluffy towel and patted her down a few times. " _There. Was that so bad, Yuki-chan_?" He said in Japanese, pressing a kiss to her forehead. " _Let's get you dressed._ "

Yuuri found the cat onesie, Yukiko's favorite this week, apparently, and put her in it. He pulled up the zipper and settled the hood, playing with the fuzzy ears. Yukiko, wiggling and giggling, brought her hands up to the ears and tugged, effectively blinding her eyes with the hood.

Yuuri laughed and stood up, easing her against his shoulder. The hood fell and rested on her back, still a tad too big for her head. Her silver hair was the length of a pixie bob now and her eye colors had lightened a little. Both of them reminded Yuuri of river-rounded glass fragments. One was a pale amber bottle, aged by centuries, and the other was a vibrant suncatcher that refracted the waves that crashed in the sea outside their windows. Simply put, she was beautiful.

She wasn't even in contest with Viktor. Both of them would agree that she won hands-down. Both kids won.

Thinking about Viktor, Yuuri walked out of the bathroom to see what he was up to. He didn't find him in the living room or the kitchen. Puzzled, Yuuri made his way to the back of the house where their bedrooms were only to stop in his tracks when he heard a low rumble coming from the twins' room. He tip-toed into the doorway and the low rumble evolved into words, lyrical and soft.

"Баю баюшки баю..." Viktor's deep voice wafted through the air with the sort of private fondness that made Yuuri feel like he was intruding. A few more lines and the beginning words cropped up again. _Bayu bayushki bayu..._

A blush dusted Yuuri's cheeks and his lips curled into a self-indulgent, sentimental smirk. Viktor's button-up was buttoned wrong, he had strands of hair tucked uselessly behind his ear as most of it fell forward anyway, and the tired lines underneath his eyes proved weeks of hectic weariness. But there was color on his face, something Yuuri _didn't_ see often. His eyes were sparkling, singing a second, unheard song to the small bundle in his arms. Mikhail, eyes closed, sucked contentedly on his pacifier that still seemed too big for his small frame. The Russian wrap he was nestled in wasn't pinned correctly and Yuuri could tell Viktor had probably given up on fixing it for the sake of making his son fall asleep just a tiny bit faster.

Music filled the air and Yuuri's heart. Even if he didn't understand the lullaby, Viktor's words were lilted in a subtly sweet minor chord that could make a riled dragon fall into a deep slumber. His body swayed almost imperceptibly, the difference in Mikhail's breathing─ quieter when Viktor's body was tilted toward the window and away from Yuuri─ and a stronger beam of the sunset were the only distinctions.

Overcome with tender elation, Yuuri pulled his phone from his pocket and took a picture. He captured a moment so pure he debated deleting it, wanting to keep the memory for himself, but decided it was worth documenting. He slipped it back into his pocket just as Viktor's song dragged out the last note.

Viktor walked to the crib and kissed Mikhail before lowering him down and covering him with another blanket. "Cпокойной ночи, любовь моя. Мишка моя," was barely louder than a breath. Yuuri recognized it easily enough: _goodnight, my love. My Mishka._

Viktor paused, kissed his son again, then turned, unsurprised that Yuuri was there. "I hope you'll crop me out of that picture, Yuuri."

Yuuri, caught red-handed, stuttered out an apology. "I-I didn't think you saw..."

Viktor chuckled and locked Yuuri in a loving hug, Yukiko blowing a spit bubble between them. "It's fine. You can make it up to me by singing your lullaby for her."

Yuuri shook his head; it was the only movement his body would allow, seeing as the rest of him was held in place by his husband and daughter, both pesky individuals. "Mikhail's already asleep. I wouldn't want to wake him."

Viktor put his hands on Yuuri's shoulders, holding them at arm's length. Then came the puppy eyes. "Please, любовь моя? We can go out to the living room. I'll even grab the music box. Please?"

Yuuri was powerless. "Fine, let's go. But just this once," Yuuri warned.

Viktor smiled and bounced giddily. "I'll just have to record you, then!"

He ran over to the dresser and picked up the music box, leaving the room before Yuuri had the chance to scold him. He huffed in defeat, following in his husband's eager wake.

The living room was all set up with the music box on the coffee table and mounds of pillows cluttering the couch to maximize its cuddling potential. He sat down cautiously, worrying that one of the pillow towers might crash around him. Viktor lay down beside him, immediately pulling them down onto the entire length of the couch. Pillows cascaded everywhere. Viktor was on his side against the back of the couch, one hand behind his head on the armrest and the other settled onto Yuuri's stomach. His legs were bent, his thighs holding the back of Yuuri's own thighs up, forcing Yuuri to wrap his legs over Viktor's. To Yuuri's surprise, Viktor had left his phone on the table. He leaned upward, his abs getting the first taste of a long-put-off workout, and took the music box. He wound the spoke a good amount while Viktor flicked open the top. When Yuuri let go, a few empty clicks resounded against the dark wood before the little chimes began to play.

He set it back on the coffee table and repositioned Yukiko so that she was laying in the manmade crevice between Yuuri and Viktor. She made ineffectual sounds of protest, but soon settled when Viktor hushed lovingly into her ear. He whispered to her that Otou-chan was going to sing for her, and Yuuri's face heated.

Closing his eyes, he waited for the measure to close the verse before he cleared his throat and took a deep breath. He hadn't sung to music in a long, long time.

" _Nen-nen yo, okororiyo, suya suya to, oyasuminasai_ ," Yuuri began, voice pausing at each phrase, unsure of how he sounded.

Viktor just watched him, silently encouraging him.

" _Nen-nen yo, okororiyo, yasashi, hito ni, sodachimasu you ni,_ " continued the song, following the same smooth transitions as the first, but adding an extra set.

" _Kami-sama,_ " the notes rose, his voice quivering, " _arigatou, enjeru mo, arigatou._ "

His throat caught on the last word, the slight choking sound evident. Viktor saw small tears in Yuuri's eyes and wiped them away without even thinking about it. His own eyes were already beginning to droop.

" _Nen-nen yo, okororiyo, mama no mune de,_ " Yuuri smiled, " _oyasuminasai_..."

The song continued for another verse, the words flowing from Yuuri, caressing those around him with soft fingers. Birds outside their bay window chirped, the sounds of the sea hitting the sands to a beat of its own. He wasn't even sure he was the one singing anymore, his mind floating higher than the clouds. Three chests rose and fell, rose and fell, long and unhurried in their journeys. Rose and fell.

Rose and fell...

The three of them slept there, unaware of Makkachin curling himself in front of the couch below their feet.

* * *

 

[Lullabies for Lyubov](http://noon30ish.deviantart.com/art/Lullabies-for-Lyubov-656207508)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Uncle Yurio visits!
> 
> Translation Notes:
> 
> Баю баюшки баю (bayu bayushki bayu) = roughly "hush little baby"  
> Cпокойной ночи, любовь моя. Мишка моя. (spokoynoy nochi, lyubov moya. Mishka moya) = Goodnight, my love. My Mishka.
> 
> The Japanese lullaby in this chapter is called the Edo Lullaby (I used this version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=68xu7uxsAgY)


	9. Uncle Yurio! Oh No!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri thought they were getting used to everything, but surprises come around every corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... please don't murder me. I know it's been over a month since I updated this fic. Trust me, I wanted to update so much sooner. A lot of the times when I went to write this, the fluff just wouldn't come out. Thus, I posted a bunch of other stuff for the fandom instead when I had smaller ideas, just so I could get the 'writer's block' over with.
> 
> That being said, I never planned for this fic to even have a plot. I just sort of went with it and you guys show so much support and I am floored. So I want you guys to be a part of this last chapter. I have my original idea, but I want you guys to be able to pick!
> 
> Option 1: Yukiko and Mikhail POV, aged 10  
> Option 2: Viktor and Yuuri POV, kids aged 10  
> Option 3: Viktor and Yuuri POV, kids aged 20+  
> Option 4: Yukiko and Mikhail POV, aged 20+  
> Option 5: More baby time (more firsts?)  
> Option 6: Anything you'd like to see, suggestions and whatnot
> 
> Again, thank you guys so much. I reply to each of you because every comment means so, so much to me when I read them. It's about knowing my work means something, and that's all I wanted. Until the next chapter (hopefully within a week not a month)!

"Yuuri!" Viktor called out from his seat on the plush carpet in the living room, "come in here, quick!"

He had his hands outstretched, not daring to move. Yuuri had to see this.

Mikhail had his miniscule fists gripped to the side of the coffee table, his knees knobby and wobbly and adorably jittery. His head was bobbing to some unheard, funky beat and he was staring back at Papa over his shoulder. Bold cerulean eyes and a shock of black hair framed his face, a small little gape telling Papa that he was concentrating really hard on not falling over.

Viktor kept his arms near Mikhail, but didn't touch him. The elation had him frozen in place, praying that Yuuri would hurry up just a little bit more.

"What is it? Did something happen? Is Mikhail okay?" Yuuri ran into the living room with Yukiko, clad in a hastily wrapped diaper, clutched against his shoulder.

"I need you to grab my phone and take a picture, Yuuri! Quick!" Viktor pointed to his phone on the coffee table, just out of reach. "He's _standing!_ "

Yuuri's worry melted into an amused quirk. Viktor was obsessed with firsts. When Yukiko had first stood without support, about one month prior, Viktor had probably flooded Instagram with at least 10 photos a second. He could have made a full-length stop-motion film with the amount of pictures he took. Yuuri had taken a few of his own pictures of Yukiko's feat before Mikhail had begun making a fuss.

They'd been trying to keep Mikhail on track with his sister, but Mikhail was still a little smaller, a tiny bit weaker. Yuuri felt bad in celebrating Yukiko's success when Mikhail couldn't share it. Yukiko always held out her hands for Mikhail to join her─ even though that meant she would fall because she still needed both her hands to keep herself steady, much to everyone's amusement─ and he was simply content to crawl around haphazardly, minding his own business. The doctors had told them that he would catch up in time, and may even have a growth spurt. They just had to stay supportive and use plenty of encouragement. Both the babies would be able to tell at least that much from their voices by now, at eight months old.

Not to mention Viktor _oozed_ praises left and right at every opportunity when his children were within his sight.

Yuuri shifted Yukiko and bent down to pick up Viktor's phone, quickly unlocking it and opening the camera. Just as he was snapping a picture, Mikhail's finger's slipped and he fell onto the carpet with a muffled _boof_. Mikhail stiffened when he fell, his arms flailing out from his sides in an effort to keep his already wavering balance. His face was blank, still trying to register what had happened.

Viktor laughed, his hand had immediately found itself on Mikhail's back to catch him. "So close! You almost had it, Mishka!" He leaned forward and nuzzled his son's cheek with his nose. "You'll get it next time, okay?"

Yuuri looked over the photo he took. He'd caught the moment that Mikhail let go, but his features hadn't betrayed the fact that he was falling yet. If anything, it looked like he'd actually stood on his own. Viktor, in the background, had his small heart-smile on and his eyes were shut─ Yuuri thought he'd caught him mid-blink. A devilish thought entered his mind as he began posting it to Instagram from Viktor's account.

"You never said that many praises to me when I was practicing," Yuuri narrowed his eyes as he focused on writing a good post.

Viktor's face fell in confusion, pointing to Mikhail. "But... you weren't this cute?"

That was rude. Yuuri tapped the post button and set Viktor's phone back on the table. He sat down across from Vitkor, their outstretched legs meeting together at their feet, forming a square. Yukiko clambered down onto the carpet and crawled after her brother, cooing in delight as if congratulating him. Yuuri tapped his foot against Viktor's playfully.

"You're saying I'm not cute?" Yuuri asked innocently.

"Have you _seen_ your son?" Viktor picked Mikhail up to showcase him, two pairs of blue mosaics posing a challenge to Yuuri. A challenge he mimicked in his own amber eyes.

The staring contest didn't last long before Yuuri's phone buzzed in his pocket. He was going to ignore it until he realized the buzzing wasn't letting up. He sighed, resigning to his loss, and picked up the call.

" _Hi, Mom,_ " Yuuri answered in jovial Japanese.

Viktor took his cue to look after the twins, playing with them and blowing raspberries into their cheeks, earning victorious giggles. Makkachin came plodding along, slow in his old age, and whined in question with his head tilted at the furless puppies he still didn't quite understand but took care of all the same. Viktor pat the ground in front of the twins, urging Makkachin to pass over his leg into the makeshift square. The poodle happily obliged, making sure to lick Mikhail and Yukiko's faces before spinning around and settling onto the ground, his fur intruding in their space.

Mikhail was instantly attached to Makkachin, clambering onto his back and cooing excitedly. The way he buried his little head and nuzzled the fur created a warm weight in Viktor's heart, one he felt with his chest thumping against his hand. His son took a lot after him in his actions, but he looked so much like Yuuri that Viktor had a hard time believing that something so perfect could be his. But what hit him worse was that they were growing so fast. Eight months had never felt so short to him. All he wanted to do was wrap them up in thousands of blankets and lay them in their bassinets next to his and Yuuri's bed and just watch them be perfect. The twins had been moved to their cribs for awhile now, though. There were often nights Yuuri had to drag Viktor off of the children's bedroom floor to their own bed across the hall, simply because he didn't want to be away from them.

Makkachin, sensing that Mikhail was teetering and about to fall to one side or another, leaned his head back and nudged Mikhail toward Makkachin's exposed stomach so that he could fall into the nest of furry legs. Mikhail shrieked, simply just to use his vocal cords more than anything else, and wiggled around, feeling Makkachin's fur like it was something new again. Viktor ruffled the fur underneath Makkachin's ear in thanks and kissed the top of Mikhail's beautifully soft charcoal hair.

Yukiko, however, did not like being ignored. She was already crawling over Viktor's leg and tugging at his shirt. _Don't ignore me!_ her eyes seemed to plead, and Viktor remembered a certain pair of brown eyes demanding the same thing years ago. He chuckled and hoisted her up into the air, making little airplane noises as he swung her around in a looping figure eight. Yukiko shrieked.

Yuuri cleared his throat pointedly, knowing that Viktor had forgotten his husband was on the phone.

" _Is that so?_ " Yuuri continued in Japanese, shaking his head as Viktor smiled sheepishly.

A notification sound came from Viktor's cell phone, so he leaned over to grab it and put his daughter down. Yukiko, after being put back on the carpet, rushed over Makkachin's legs and collided with Mikhail, giggling and tripping over the three sets of limbs in the pile. Viktor snapped a picture of them before returning to the main reason he had gotten his phone.

There were thousands of likes on a picture he didn't remember uploading, and hundreds of comments. When Viktor saw the picture, there was confusion, surprise, annoyance, and finally admiration. Yuuri was lucky the last emotion won out for now, since Viktor was going to get him back for posting the Russian with such a goofy expression. But Mikhail looked so cute and accomplished that Viktor didn't have the heart to be mad─ of course, he rarely did anyway.

" _We'll be over once we get the kids ready, okay?_ " Yuuri sounded like he was about to end the call, so Viktor glanced in his direction. " _We'll see you soon. Bye._ "

"What did your mom want?" Viktor asked, absentmindedly petting Makkachin and smiling fondly at the children─ _his children_ , which he still had to remind himself as a true statement from time to time because it still seemed so surreal─ playing with the old dog.

"She didn't say," Yuuri answered, "she just said we should go down to the inn and visit everyone for a little while. We don't have anything pressing to do today, right?"

"Not that I'm aware," Viktor shrugged.

Yuuri nodded. "You'll dress them? I'll go get the car seats─"

Viktor beckoned Yuuri with his finger to lean closer. Puzzled, Yuuri complied. Viktor pushed himself a little further, favoring the stretch, and pressed a chaste kiss to those angelic lips. They kept the connection for a few moments, not moving, not sliding or opening their lips further, just enjoying the continuous reminder that they were there for each other, that they were each other's anchor.

But Yuuri pulled away first, a smile on his face but his brows knit together. "Why?" was all he could offer to the silence in the space between them.

Viktor could spend eternity answering that question. He could write hundreds of essays thousands of pages long, organize a worldwide-broadcasted interview, could shout until his throat was destroyed and then continue shouting, on precisely why he wanted to kiss Yuuri Katsuki at all times. But that would never be enough. So he sat back and picked up their children, freeing Makkachin from her furless puppy prison, and stood up.

"We don't want to keep your family waiting, do we?"

* * *

Yuuri knew something was wrong as soon as they parked the car at the inn. Well, not wrong, perhaps, but definitely off. The doors were closed and the signs were turned off. The lights were out and the radio that usually played soft acoustics was quiet. Cool, clear air filled their lungs as they got out of the car and unhitched the carriers from the seats to carry Mikhail and Yukiko with them. Makkachin followed close behind, subdued, which probably added to Yuuri's concerns.

It wouldn't make sense for the place to be deserted if his mother had asked them to visit. He waited on the sidewalk for Viktor to catch up. He had grabbed the diaper bag and had trouble slinging it over his shoulder while also carrying the carrier and the portable stroller─ the kids really liked long walks. Yuuri offered to take it but Viktor insisted as he walked past Yuuri and up the steps to the inn.

Due to the distinct atmosphere, Yuuri felt compelled to knock. He turned the knob and used his hips to push the door open, holding it for Viktor.

" _We're home_ ," Yuuri greeted in Japanese like he always did. They set down their items by the door and proceeded to take off their shoes and jackets, the entire place eerily still.

And dark. The shades on the windows were drawn and barely any sunlight filtered through, illuminating small strips over some of the low tables and cushions. Even with his glasses on, Yuuri could hardly see the check-in desk or the double doors that led to the kitchens. He wordlessly motioned toward Viktor to have him flip the light switch.

The light bulbs and lamps and decorative lights flashed on in an instant.

Nothing.

Well, not quite nothing. Now they had the hum of electricity to keep them company.

" _Mom_?" Viktor called out tentatively, the Japanese on his tongue still a little foreign. His brows furrowed and Yuuri could sense he was starting to get on edge.

Mikhail made an uneasy noise, a stark contrast to their surroundings. Yuuri bent down to his carrier and unbuckled him, pulling him into his arms and humming to him quietly. He patted his back and stood, walking around the inn. His socked feet sounded like a herd of elephants.

He peered into the kitchens. No one. He went to the little gift shop. No one. Upstairs he called again, his words falling like a blanket onto the floor. No one. Viktor and Makkachin met up with him in the hallway with similar findings. Yukiko babbled and she started clutching at Viktor's shirt, climbing up his shoulder to pull at his hair. As it turned out, that was her favorite pastime, particularly if she was nervous or not getting attention.

Definitely clingy like her father in that regard.

"Did you check the hot springs?" Yuuri suggested.

As an answer, they both made their way to the changing and shower rooms. It was pleasantly warm in there, like there had been many guests in there recently. But there weren't any used towels tossed around, no clothing in the lockers, nothing that indicated people had been here at all.

The panic that had settled into Yuuri's chest earlier started to swell, dispersing into his gut and making him sick. Viktor took his free arm and put it around his shoulders, rubbing gently. Yuuri leaned into the touch without a second thought. There would be no use in Viktor saying anything at this moment because nothing would change the fact that they were alone here. Yuuri's mind pictured his mother's smiling face and couldn't fathom how anything could have happened to her.

After taking a moment to collect himself, Yuuri pressed further toward the glass doors to the hot springs, where Makkachin was sniffing with fervor. Viktor held it open for him and then stepped out right behind him, keeping him close. Makkachin whimpered.

Wait a minute. Why─

"SURPRISE!"

Yuuri's mom, dad, and sister popped up closest from underneath one of the tables Yuuri had just registered in his mind as out of place. Minako pirouetted into their vision, Minami following behind. Phichit jumped up from behind the rocks over the springs. Chris sprang up from under the water's surface. Guang-Hong and Leo came up from under another table. Yuuko and Nishigori came around a table at the front with a rather large cake on top. The triplets immediately ran up to Makkachin and then to Yuuri and Viktor after.

The sudden noise had spooked Mikhail and Yukiko, but neither cried. Yuuri figured they were still in a bit of a shock. Hell, _he_ was still in a shock.

In somewhat of a daze, Yuuri walked over to his mom and hugged her, Mikhail squirming between them. It wasn't so much a greeting as it was a wave of relief pushing Yuuri to act. She laughed and hugged him back, wiggling her finger to Mikhail's nose.

"They've really grown, Yuuri!" She beamed at him, looking from Mikhail to Yukiko in Viktor's arms with tender affection. "I'm so proud of you and Vicchan."

"What _is_ all this?" Yuuri asked, not meaning to ignore his mother's praising. There was a telltale blush on his cheeks that spoke all the thanks in the world he could offer.

Before she could answer, Phichit was slinging his arms over Yuuri and Viktor. The smile on his face stretched wide and he had his camera out, angling it to get all five of them in the shot. He then waved Yuuri's mom into the picture, too. Yuuri and Viktor didn't have enough time to react properly and had various expressions of bewilderment on their faces when the photo was snapped.

"Congrats on the cute babies, guys!" He gushed. "And happy anniversary!"

Yuuri and Viktor deadpanned and stole a look at each other. What day was it again? It was the day before Mikhail's next appointment, sure. They had those appointments memorized, lived each day by how close the next one was, and the actual numbers of the dates never seemed to dawn on them. Then it hit them.

"It's been three long years, hasn't it, you two?" Chris came up behind them, hands on their waists, a little low.

"It has," Viktor answered, affected by the surprise more so than Chris himself. He looked guilty. Yuuri wanted him to know he'd forgotten as well, but he didn't think it would really help. Clearly they'd both forgotten if their reactions were anything to go by.

Phichit had his hand on Yuuri's shoulder now, and he was looking intently at Mikhail. "You were supposed to invite me once they were born, Yuuri. You're so mean to make me wait."

Yuuri smirked, but his eyes were apologetic. "Would you like to hold him?"

"Is that alright?" Phichit cautioned, but Yuuri had already turned toward him with Mikhail reaching out in curiosity. Phichit had to reluctantly pocket his phone─ a giant feat in itself─ in order to fumble his way around Mikhail, not entirely sure how to hold the little guy. Yuuri helped him out, giving him pointers, and soon Mikhail was comfortably set against Phichit's chest, his head on his shoulder.

Mikhail bit down with his gums, earning a small yelp from Phichit.

Yuuri laughed. "He does that to everything new he touches. He'll get used to you."

Phichit narrowed his eyes but seemed to believe him. He gently pulled Mikhail away from his shoulder and made some incoherent sounds in response to Mikhail's coos. "His _eyes_ , Yuuri!" Phichit's features were radiating wonder. "They're so... so _Viktor_."

"I know," Yuuri smiled quietly. "They're beautiful."

Viktor, on the other hand, was 'trying' to get Yukiko to stop pulling on Chris's hair. They were both laughing hysterically, in which the other guests joined the longer it went on. Viktor was holding his daughter up high and Chris was tugged right along, his eyes wincing but his grin wider than ever. She didn't seem to want to let go any time soon. Viktor took advantage of that and led Chris around the party, ignoring that his friend was leashed as he greeted and thanked the other people around them.

Leo and Guang-Hong came up to Phichit and Yuuri after the effect of the surprise had worn off. They talked for awhile, remarking that they had both been in China for a competition and that Phichit had been the one to offer making the trip over to Japan with him. Phichit blushed, but did not argue. Yuuri figured this was something that Phichit would have pulled. Just because he'd been Yuuri's best man at his wedding, Phichit had made it clear that he would know all the important dates for his favorite couple in the world. And, of course, Leo and Guang-Hong wanted to ask Yuuri if he liked their gift.

"The music box is really pretty," Yuuri said. "How did you know the lullaby?"

Guang-Hong spoke. "It's actually really similar to a Chinese lullaby my parents know. I did some research and asked Leo if there was anyone he knew that made music boxes."

"You know _everything_ about music, don't you?" Phichit teased, Mikhail shrieking gleefully as he was bounced.

And so they mingled for a couple hours, occasionally eating food or leaving to change dirty diapers. The effort to keep composed was normally hard for Yuuri, but being surrounded by so much love and support kept him on his feet for a longer period of time than he had for awhile. He admitted to himself he'd gotten lost a little along the way and his body wasn't in the best shape, but the joy he saw on everyone's faces, on _his children's_ faces, was worth it.

Besides, the cake was delicious. Viktor had held the first forkful to Yuuri's lips, mimicking their wedding day, and Yuuri took the bite in stride. He dragged his lips over the fork, making sure to lick away any excess frosting, and noticed the faint blush on Viktor's nose blossoming. Before Viktor could chide him, Yuuri had a forkful pressed against his lips, too. Viktor chuckled quietly and mirrored Yuuri's movements, the subtlest look in his eyes as he did so.

That's when Yuuri realized something was still off. There weren't any barfing noises, no mumbled curses, no _leopard print_.

"Where's Yurio?" Yuuri asked. Maybe he was busy, maybe he had a competition, or maybe he just didn't want to see them.

Maybe Yurio didn't care about them.

Yuuri dwelled on that thought for far longer than he knew he should have. His throat thickened and the remnants of the taste of cake in his mouth felt bitter. The Russian boy always had that sneer on his face when Yuuri and Viktor had been around. He didn't seem to like being around them and he never called Yuuri by his name. His mind focused in on these things and his chest tightened, his breathing becoming shorter. At some point in the midst of his panic, Viktor had taken Mikhail from Yuuri's grasp.

Yuuri's feet felt unsteady, so he made his way over to the hot springs. He took off his socks and rolled up his pant legs before dipping tentatively into the bubbling water. He sat away from the others, some of whom had concerned faces.

Yuuri narrowed his sensations to just that of the hot water clinging to his skin, shifting and sloshing against him like a rock against the ocean. He felt the jets underneath the surface that felt like pistons pounding against his calves. He timed his breath with every cycle of the jet's hum. Three hums to an inhale, five hums to an exhale.

Yurio wouldn't have gotten the children those cat onesies if he didn't care. Yurio wouldn't have made Yuuri katsudon pirozhki for his birthday if he didn't care. So, he had to care at least a little bit... right?

Why wasn't he here? Did Phichit not know how to contact him? Would Yurio be pissed if they told them about this only to find he wasn't invited? A different stress washed over him.

Viktor appeared beside him, sitting with a hand on his shoulder, all too quickly and Yuuri had to stifle the hiccup of fright that came from his lips. He shied away from the touch instinctively, leaving Viktor with a brief look of pained confusion before he masked it. He cleared his throat as if to speak, but decided against it.

Yuuri thanked him silently. He wasn't sure if he could have handled listening to empty reasons right now.

Most people hadn't recognized the anxiety attack and were still ambling around, talking with their usual cheer. Others noticed and respected the privacy between the two. Yuuri's mom and sister had Yukiko and Mikhail, respectively, and went inside with them so that Yuuri could focus on himself. In the months following their birth, Yuuri hadn't been taking care of himself mentally, either. Anxiety had its own way of regressing and progressing, so there was never any easy solution.

Viktor stayed next to Yuuri, his breath too even, but he stayed all the same. He sat back with his arms propping him up as he looked around them.

They sat like this for some time, letting the noises of the hot springs fill the void between them.

Yuuri glanced at him furtively before slowly shifting his weight closer. Viktor still didn't move, so Yuuri took his hand and gripped it tightly, granting permission.

Viktor scooted until they were touching and put his arms around Yuuri, squeezing gently. But he still didn't speak, not yet. They just sat there and held each other, tethered to the earth by the other's touch. Yuuri didn't make another move to tell Viktor that he was okay, because he really wasn't. The best he could do to let Viktor know was to keep breathing, slow and labored, but striving for calm.

After a few minutes, Viktor whispered into the shell of his ear, "I think he wanted to be here, Yuuri. I really do. Do you want me to message him?"

"No," Yuuri's voice trailed off. "I wouldn't want to bug him."

"Nonsense," Viktor huffed the tiniest of laughs, hugging a little tighter, "he got used to me bugging him over the years. I'm sure one message from me wouldn't rile him up too much."

Yuuri smirked halfheartedly. Maybe if Viktor sent the message, the guilt on Yuuri's shoulders wouldn't feel so heavy. It still unsettled him, but his breathing was calming down again. "Happy Anniversary, Viktor."

Viktor hummed appreciatively, his lips vibrating against Yuuri's cheek as his did so. "The best ever," he muttered.

"You say that every year," Yuuri poked him, unfurling from his shell.

"It gets better every year I'm with you," Viktor kissed him again. And again. Yuuri's cheek was tinged pink and littered with the lingering touches. Viktor kissed him again, closer to his jaw. Then the corner of his mouth. He kissed over and over until Yuuri turned to him, meaning to shove him playfully, but slipped on the edge of the hot springs, landing over Viktor.

Not that either of them minded, as evident by their bursts of laughter.

If Yurio were here, he would definitely have been disgusted. And Yuuri smiled at that.

When they walked back into the house, all smiles and clasped hands, everyone gave them another round of congratulations on three years and healthy twins. Yukiko and Mikhail were playing with Makkachin and Minami on the floor in the living area, unaffected by their parents' absence until they were in the same room again. Yukiko raced along the tatami floors until she was picked up by an equally excited Viktor.

"Look at you!" Viktor nuzzled her. "Радость моя, как красивая," he said with the purest of smiles, although no one knew what he said. Yuuri barely had any inclination himself. It sounded incredible to him no matter what. Viktor could have told Yukiko that she smelled like a dirty diaper─ although they'd just changed her not too long ago─ and Yuuri would still think that voice was sexy as hell.

"Oh, Yuuri," his mom came up to them, breaking Yuuri from his fixation, "there's one more thing I have for you and Vicchan."

Yuuri tilted his head. "You didn't have to get us anything, Mom. You've done so much already."

As usual, she waved her hand in dismissal and pulled something from behind her back. She produced a small envelope with Yutopia's address across the front. Her smile couldn't have been any brighter. "We received some gift cards to that restaurant down the road that's owned by one of the regulars here. I thought you two could use a nice dinner and a night off from the little ones on your anniversary."

Gratitude bloomed inside him and he took the envelope like it would shatter if he wasn't careful. "Thank you so much," Yuuri paused, then, "but you don't have all the things that Yukiko and Mikhail need. And what if Mikhail has another breathing issue, or Yukiko hits her head on the furniture here, or they fall into the hot springs, or─"

"Yuuri, Yuuri," his mother placated, "you don't need to worry. Bring them home and then you can have your night out, okay?"

Panic was replaced by confusion. "We can't just leave them at the house," he ventured uncertainly.

Hiroko gave her son that all-knowing, motherly sense type of look. "Just go. You'll see."

Was his mom going to come with them and stay at their place? He supposed that was better than staying at the non-baby-proofed inn, but would she be able to handle them on her own? Even when Viktor or Yuuri left the house, one of the children was usually taken with them, or one was put down for a nap while the other was watched more carefully (especially after the Yukiko-and-pots-and-pans-and-an-unfortunate-Makkachin incident). Then again, Hiroko had been a mother a lot longer than either Yuuri or Viktor had been fathers. Perhaps he could rest easy. He trusted his mother above everyone else.

But when she _did not_ , in fact, come home with them, Yuuri had a hard time keeping his brows from knitting together. Maybe they were to use these on another day to celebrate their anniversary. Viktor really wanted to use them tonight, though. He had been so happy that Hiroko had given so much thought to it─ although it really wasn't much, she had insisted─ that he had hugged her tightly, muttering something into her ear that Yuuri didn't catch.

When Viktor pulled the car into the driveway, they saw the living room lights were on. They could have sworn that they had shut them all off before they left, but Viktor was forgetful sometimes, so perhaps they had just missed them. But those lights were easy to pass by and just turn off, so Yuuri had that same feeling crawling under his skin.

They got everything and everyone out of the car and shuffled their way into the house. Instantly, the smell of something in the oven hit them full force. Yuuri set Yukiko's carrier down and barged into the kitchen, making a beeline for the oven. There was _no way_ they had been cooking before they left. How did they forget that the stove was on?

Yuuri was about to turn it off when a hand that wasn't Viktor's covered the dial. "Don't you dare touch those! They're not done yet, Katsudon!"

Yuuri took a step back, his eyes resting on long blond hair, powerful green eyes, and a characteristically grumpy grimace.

"Yurio!" Viktor called out from somewhere behind him. "Oh, and Otabek. Hi!" He said with puzzling delight.

Yuuri's head slowly rotated to look into the living room where another body that wasn't Viktor stood with a gentle, stoic expression. He blinked, returning his gaze to the first foreign body. Except, it wasn't all that foreign.

"Oi, that's not my name!" A voice, one his mind had made him believe that he would never hear again, solidified its existence.

Ordinarily, Yuuri kept to himself. He wouldn't pounce on people like Viktor often did. But after the anxiety attack he'd had, the joy he felt took over his common sense. He grabbed the boy and embraced him so tightly that said boy started to thrash against him. Yuuri didn't care.

"Yurio, you really did come to visit!" Yuuri felt the tears in his eyes begin to creep down his cheeks. "I didn't think you'd come..."

"Not my _name_ ─ let go, let go, let GO, LET GO!" Yurio pushed himself away only to have Viktor pull both of them into another hug.

Otabek simply watched on, sensing it wasn't his place to join the reunion. He smiled at the doting adoration of the people in front of him.

When they broke apart, Yuuri realized that this was what his mother had been hiding. How else would Yurio have known where they lived? He hadn't visited before; he only knew the hot springs inn. His mother must have clued him in. But then that meant Yurio had planned to...

"Will you watch Yukiko and Mikhail while we go out to dinner tonight?" Viktor asked.

* * *

After what seemed like hours and hours of pointless instruction, Katsudon and Viktor finally left the house and a quiet air returned. The twins were sleeping, so they would stay in the carriers until they woke up.

Yuri let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. "About time they left, damn it."

"You liked seeing them again," Otabek translated the Yuri-nese.

Yuri glanced over to the carriers for the fifth time in the past minute. This time, he walked up to them and brushed a hand across each face, one by one. The hair was soft, so soft. He paused.

He took the one named Mikhail out of his carrier and held him close, hand covering the back of his head. Whatever compelled him to do so, he couldn't name. The baby looked a lot like Katsudon. He was still asleep, so Yuri walked around the house with the new heartbeat in his arms.

The disgusting couple's house was nice, he had to admit. The kitchen had ample space for him to make pirozhki and the living room's couch was divine for cuddling, not that that was what Yuri had done as soon as he got here. No. Not at all. The bay window was wider than it had to be; must have been Viktor's selling point. It made Yuri feel like he was back in Russia, seeing the ocean so close. Maybe Otabek would want to go for a walk down the beach later.

He walked into the babies' room, speculating. It was a nice color, though he preferred black and red himself. He supposed having a baby's room painted black might not be good for their developing eyesight, but he couldn't be sure. It wasn't like he knew anything about babies. How he had let Hiroko talk him into doing this was beyond him.

"Yukiko's awake," Otabek walked in, startling Yuri. "She's cranky. I think she needs her diaper changed."

Yuri's nose crinkled and he looked over his shoulder at Otabek. He was carrying Yukiko, who was fidgeting in his arms. The smell wafted to Yuri's nostrils and he froze. He didn't know how to change a diaper. How _the hell_ did he agree to this?

Thankfully, Otabek took Yukiko over to the changing station and appeared to know what he was doing. Yuri was beside him, observing what he did.

"I used to change my little sister's diapers back home," Otabek supplied, sensing Yuri's discomfort with the situation, "so if they need changing, I can do it if you want."

Yuri nodded, not wanting to admit that he was terrified of screwing this up. Otabek peeled back the sides and pulled the diaper away between her legs. There didn't look to be anything messy, so he wrapped it and tossed it in the bin. Yuri watched as he picked up a new one from the shelf and wiped Yukiko clean before putting it on. It seemed simple enough. Yuri could do that.

Mikhail, as if taking on the silent challenge, let Yuri know that he also needed changing with a thicker scent than Yukiko's. Otabek noticed and stepped aside, allowing Yuri to try it for himself. Yuri set the baby down and stared, suddenly unsure. What was he supposed to do first?

He struggled to pick away at the sticky sides of the diaper. Otabek had made it look so easy. When the tabs were finally ripped away, Yuuri pulled the front of the diaper down and nearly heaved at the sight and smell combined.

This one was _much_ messier.

He could hear Makkachin whining and coughing from the other side of the house. He felt very much the same.

"Do you want me to do this one, too?" Otabek offered. His nose was pinched between his thumb and forefinger, making his voice sound more nasally.

"I can do it!" Yuri mumbled indignantly. He dragged the diaper away from Mikhail and shoved it to the edge of the table. Otabek quietly took it and folded it up, throwing it away. Yuri didn't want to admit he couldn't do it by thanking him, so he hoped that Otabek understood. Yuri grabbed a new diaper and proceeded to question which side of the diaper was the front and which was the back. They both looked the same. After a few seconds of frustration, he handed it to Otabek, who opened it and gave it back to him in the proper direction. Yuri found that putting it on was easier than taking them off, thankfully.

When that disaster was over with, they took the children out to the living room and were joined by a fluffy, bouncing Makkachin. Otabek had just set Yukiko down when the timer on the oven went off, so he offered to grab the pirozhki. Yuri was left in the living room with two eight-month-old babies and an oversized puppy. What could go wrong?

Bad question.

Very bad question.

As it turned out, Mikhail _really_ liked the studs on Yuri's jacket. He clambered over to Yuri's lap and looked up at him expectantly.

"What do you want?" Yuri grumbled, though his features were soft and uncertain. He pulled out his phone and diverted his attention.

Mikhail smiled, for some reason Yuri couldn't figure out, and forced out a few nonsensical syllables as he proceeded to climb one limb at a time up onto Yuri. He tried to put his feet underneath him and push up, only to have them slip out from under him. Yuri panicked and grabbed him, steadying him on his lap. He'd dropped his phone in the process. So far, so good. Only two more hours of this to go.

Mikhail, however, was not content to just sit there. He latched onto the jacket, feeling the strange sensation that was leather and metal zipper teeth. The gleam from the stud caught his blue eyes and he lunged for it, mouth first. He began sucking on it and seemed disappointed that it wasn't producing milk. He nibbled on it instead. Yuri laughed at the absurdity and had to pry the baby away from it before he popped it off and tried to eat it.

Then the crying started. Mikhail had a sour face, his eyes watering and squinting, his mouth making the sucking and chomping motions, and his vocal cords were getting progressively stronger. Yuri froze, wondering that if he stayed still long enough Mikhail would go back to normal. No such luck was granted, because his tears began falling. They were fat tears, too. Yuri wondered if this was how Katsudon looked when he cried. Viktor had mentioned it before, but didn't dwell on it because he hated even thinking about his husband crying.

But now their son was crying and Yuri knew fuck-all about what to do in this situation. He picked him back up and brought him to the metal stud again, thinking Mikhail just wanted the jacket. His lips immediately suckled on it, but he spat it back out and cried louder.

"Блядь," Yuri cursed under his breath. He thrummed his fingers onto Mikhail's back, his eyes flitting about the room nervously. He bounced a little bit, more due to incapability to think of a solution than to calm Mikhail down, although the motion wasn't doing the latter anyway.

"Yura? What's wrong?" Otabek walked into the living room and halted as Yuri ran up to him.

"He's crying and I don't know _why_!" Yuri hissed through his teeth. He kept bouncing Mikhail because at least he could break up the crying sounds into bearable chunks.

"Is he hungry?" Otabek put his hands on Yuri's shoulders to stop him from bouncing so much.

Yuri realized he might have been a bit too jittery. Bouncing too much was bad for them, right? Or something? "What do babies this size eat?"

Otabek tried to hold back a snort but failed. "They still drink from the bottle, Yura. Yuuri said they were in the fridge."

"Fridge. Right." Yuri passed by his friend and started raiding their fridge for the second time since they had arrived that day. He found some premade standard-looking baby bottles and plopped it right next to Mikhail's mouth.

He took two sips and spat it out, crying _even harder_. The bottle fell to the floor with a sloshed thud and rolled away.

"Дерьмо!" Yuri swore again, earning a grunt of warning from Otabek.

"Yura," he put a firm, comforting hand on Yuri's shoulder after he picked up the bottle, "calm down. You need to heat it up a little bit. Just warm enough that it feels the same against the skin on your wrist, then you can give it to him. And don't use such foul language around him."

Yuri nodded and mentally cursed himself instead. What would he have done had Otabek not offered to travel all the way to Japan with him? He would have had to do this on his own and these kids might have been in much more trouble. At this point, of course, there wasn't much more trouble to be had. Surely...?

As he was getting the warmed bottle from the microwave, Otabek came back into the kitchen. "Uh, you set Yukiko in her crib, right?" He leaned forward, checking the hall and turning to check the mudroom and entryway. His eyes were searching a little more urgently.

"Hm?" Yuri didn't hear the question at first, still processing the words over the sounds of Mikhail's desperate cries. "She's in the living room with Makkachin," Yuri said nonchalantly as he tested the bottle and gave it to Mikhail, who immediately quieted and suckled happily. Yuri sighed, basking in the sweet, noiseless relief.

"Makkachin's not there... and neither is she," Otabek explained.

Yuri's stomach felt like it had gotten sucker punched and he wondered briefly if this was how Katsudon felt on a daily basis. A shred of sympathy quivered through him, but he tried not to let it show. _He_ didn't get nervous. He wasn't a complete wreck like Katsudon. Not that Katsudon was useless, unless he was near Viktor, obviously.

Either way, both Katsudon and Viktor would deem Yuri useless if he didn't have both children alive by the end of the night.

While still holding the bottle to Mikhail's lips, Yuri started pacing around the house. He checked the babies' room, he checked the bathroom, he checked the living room. _Hell_ , he even ran outside and yelled Makkachin's name. Sure, Viktor would be a little mad if he had lost Makkachin. He would be furious if he had lost his child. But he would downright _kill_ Yuri if he lost his child _and_ Makkachin. Not that Yuri was scared of Viktor's wrath.

Of course not.

Otabek seemed to sense that Yuri was under some pressure, so he double checked where Yuri went and whistled for the dog. Still nothing.

They searched and searched for what felt like eternity, but it had really only been a few minutes. Otabek had suggested that they call Yuuri and Viktor, but Yuri downright refused to admit defeat. They fell onto the carpet in the living room, back to back, and Mikhail had long ago finished the bottle. Otabek had the phone in his hands and he was dialing the number when they heard a bark and the clatter of claws on wooden floors. Makkachin bounded into the room with an odd, furless lump riding along on his back.

When Makkachin lay down beside the exhausted pair (and equally exhausted baby for some reason Yuri couldn't discern), the extra lump on his back slid off and curled deeper into the crevice between the fur and Otabek's thigh. The worry lines in their faces lessened and there was a collective sigh that made both of them shiver.

Seriously, who thought they would be good at this?

"I never want kids, Beka," Yuri said at last.

"After tonight, I'm sure whoever you end up with would share the same sentiment," Otabek smirked.

Yuri knew it was meant as a joke, that Yuri was so hilariously bad and that it was actually surprising that being concerned about another human being was somewhat within his capabilities. But the way it was said disappointed him. He couldn't fathom really being with anyone. And yet...

Not bothering to finish his thoughts, Yuri peered down at Mikhail. His eyes were closed and his entire face was puffed. Pursed lips blew a tiny spit bubble that, when it popped, caused the baby to stir but not wake. Innocence dusted his cheeks and Yuri absently swiped his palm across them. The last thing he remembered was bringing the baby up to kiss his forehead.

The next morning, Yuri and Otabek had to explain precisely why the house was leaking at least three types of fluids from the sinks and under the fridge and several cabinets. And why the bathtub was still filling up, or why Makkachin was sleeping with Mikhail in his crib, or why the entire house looked like a whirlwind had the time of its life in the living room. The carpet was overturned and baby clothes were strewn over chairs that had no business standing in the middle of the room.

Naturally, Yuuri and Viktor's children were little devils, Yuri was convinced.

There was one thing Yuri couldn't explain, however. Even when Viktor had his wavering fingers clutching Yuri's jaw paired with that sly, sinister smile that demanded an answer, Yuri could offer nothing to justify precisely what had happened.

And it was that _Yukiko's first word had become Блядь._

Swearing that he had only said that word to Mikhail didn't seem to soothe Viktor's exasperation.

On the other hand, the dumb Katsudon had no idea what the two Russians were arguing about as he sat at the kitchen table feeding his daughter, totally oblivious to everything but the heartbeat he nurtured in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't pretend to actually know any Russian. I can read their letters, that's about it.
> 
> Радость моя, как красивая (Radost' moya, kak krasivaya) = My joy, how beautiful (you are)  
> Блядь (Blyad') = damn, fuck (general expletive)  
> Дерьмо (Der'mo) = shit (expletive)
> 
> It was my first time writing Yurio POV for longer than a couple paragraphs. Also, self-editing was done just before uploading. If there are any glaring mistakes, yell at me.


	10. Family of Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri have given their all, and it's time for Yukiko and Mikhail to give it right back.
> 
> Option 2 was overwhelmingly the winner, but I took some creative liberty with some of the other options. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter for this fic... My first finished longfic for YoI, and it's this sappy, fluffy wreck. I want to thank every read, every kudos, and every comment that you all have left. It means so, so much to me. So please enjoy this last chapter and maybe tell me what you've liked about the story? What some of your favorite parts were?
> 
> Oh, and MOST IMPORTANTLY, please check out this [fanart](http://noon30ish.deviantart.com/art/Victuuri-Children-658191311) that someone did of Yukiko and Mikhail. I based this chapter off of their designs and I would be enamored if you all could show the artist some love! It's honestly so cute and it physically hurt me to wait until this chapter to share it with you all.
> 
> Радость моя (Radost' moya) = my joy  
> Да, да, хорошо (Da, da, khorosho) = yes, yes, alright  
> Отлично (Otlichno) = excellent  
> Нет, спасибо (Net, spasibo) = no thanks  
> звезда моя (zvezda moya) = my star  
> Возможно (Vozmozhno) = maybe  
> Я люблю вас обоих (Ya lyublyu vas oboikh) = I love both of you  
> Я люблю тебя, Витя (Ya lyublyu tebya, Vitya) = I love you Vitya
> 
> (All Japanese is italicized because I'm too lazy to translate and it's been three years since I last studied Japanese IV.)

"Yukiko, are you ready?" Yuuri called out from the kitchen. He'd already packed the bags and slung both over his shoulders, standing in the entryway with an amused purse of his lips. "We're going to be late for practice! _Hurry up_ ," he added in impatient Japanese.

"Coming, _Tou-chan_!" Yukiko scrambled out of the room, her sweats falling from her hips from not being tied correctly and her sweatshirt still struggling to be pulled over her head. The shirt she wore was blue with yellow sleeves, an oddly familiar yellow "Y" stitched on the front. Yuuri wondered how his childhood shirt had gotten into her dresser... never mind. He knew exactly who put it there.

Yukiko's arms were clawing at the fabric uselessly as she ran haphazardly into the kitchen and walked around obstacles mostly by a little muscle memory and a lot of luck. That was, until she tripped on her boots by the step down to the entryway.

Yuuri caught her with a grunt; she was getting too big for him to keep doing this. After setting her upright, he tugged her sweatshirt on and fixed the too-long sleeves as she tried to smooth out her long, frazzled hair.

It had grown out terrifyingly long─ longer than Viktor's had ever been. She refused to have it cut and, Yuuri wouldn't admit it, he didn't have the heart to go against her. She looked so much like her father─ her biological father, technically─ that Yuuri's heart swelled whenever he saw her dance around the house, without a care in the world. Twirling and jumping and creating new moves with silly names, she took on a lot from Viktor, honestly. She could pass for a Nikiforov solely if that were a thing that was possible.

Her eyes, though, made Yuuri weak. He always had to look away when she pleaded, because seeing his and Viktor's eyes both reflected in her features reminded him that she was _theirs_ and how could he deny her anything at all? It was unfair, her eyes of topaz and sapphire.

Now she looked at him apologetically. "Sorry! Thank you!" Her English was better than anyone else's in the family, and her accent was practically nonexistent. Her Japanese, however, was the cutest. " _Let's go see Papa_! Right?"

"Mhm," Yuuri nodded. " _He called me and said it was your turn now,_ " he said as he opened the door and watched his daughter skip down the walkway ahead of him.

She turned to him after a moment. "' _He called_... and, uh... something about it being my turn, right?"

Yuuri's fond smile was brimmed with pride. "That's right. You know you'll have to work on your Japanese before you head back to school, Yukiko. Not everyone knows Engli─"

"I know, I know!" Yukiko stomped her feet, petulant. "Now _hurry up_ slowpoke!"

Yuuri gave her a look but decided not to say anything, just followed after her. Viktor had taken the car this morning because he had Mikhail with him and the poor boy's asthma didn't cooperate with the chilly winter weather. Of course, his asthma didn't stop him from asking for two extra hours of practice before his family's scheduled practice. The car ride would save Mikhail's lungs from overworking, so not having the car was fine. Besides, Yuuri hadn't gone on his run this morning. Yukiko had insisted on playing hide-and-seek, her current favorite. Normally, Viktor played that with her, but she decided trying to hide from someone who didn't already know all her hiding spots was more fun.

Yukiko was lucky Yuuri still had his stamina. At 36, Yuuri was beginning to feel his knees ache from time to time, despite keeping up with his stretches. His body was still relatively in shape, more so than he thought it would be, but there was the residual stomach that he didn't seem capable of losing once he retired. He learned not to complain to his 40 year old melodramatic husband, who, regardless of the near constant reassurances, _was not_ losing his hair just yet.

Okay, perhaps a little bit.

Yuuri wouldn't tell him that, though. He still liked sex.

Yuuri rolled his shoulders and bent his knees a few times to warm up before setting out at a slow jog. Yukiko was already ahead of him, skipping along the sidewalk and spinning with her arms out wide. It looked like she was practicing choreography, the way she dragged her feet lightly across the asphalt. He recognized a few of the moves from his lessons with Minako. Yuuri kept his pace so that he was always behind his daughter, occasionally picking it up some when Yukiko decided that _right now_ was the best time to sprint over to a frozen puddle that she could skid across.

Yuuri imagined a younger Viktor, long hair gathered in a loose ponytail that swayed with the beat of his dance. From this view, Yukiko and Viktor were one in the same.

It was once they came to the bridge before the rink that Yukiko finally stopped her frolicking to run beside her father. She didn't sound out of breath, but Yuuri still slowed marginally so that she wouldn't tire out before they even got to practice. Yukiko would be sad if she didn't get to skate her heart out today.

"Do─ I─ get to─ do double─ jumps─ today?" Yukiko asked between breaths.

"That's up to Papa," Yuuri answered, "if he thinks you're ready."

"I'm ready!" Yukiko dashed forward and jumped excitedly, still not breaking pace. "I'm gonna─ jump─ _really_ ─ high! And─ and─ spin!" On the last word, she turned backwards and imitated a toe loop, spinning around once before stumbling and picking herself back up. Slightly different when skates weren't on her feet.

Worry lines appeared on Yuuri's face, but they were quickly replaced by relief when he saw the steps to the Ice Castle appear. He slowed down his warm up and called after his daughter to do the same. She listened, barely, and stopped at the top of the first step, swinging herself around the metal banister.

They walked sideways up the steps, prepping their muscles for the ice awaiting them. Yukiko went up and down the stairs a couple times that way while she waited for her father to make it all the way up once. Yuuri wanted to have that sort of energy again. She waddled at the top of the steps, shifting her weight impatiently. She held out her hands, but instead of going for the hug, she grabbed her practice bag from Yuuri's shoulder and ran off into the Ice Castle without him. Yuuri huffed, shaking his head in amusement.

When he entered the rink, the smell of ice shavings and cool metal hit his nose, pleasant and familiar. The scraping sound of blades was more familiar yet, even from behind the double doors. Yukiko was already talking animatedly with Yuuko at the counter, gripping onto it to push herself up when she jumped. Yuuko had a loving smile on her face and was happy to hear that Yukiko wanted to be babysat by the triplets again.

Yuuri made a mental note to _not_ let that happen again.

He said his hello to Yuuko and then walked together with Yukiko into the rink, the flow of soft music and sharp, contrasting sounds of the blades stronger now. There was a clack and a shoving sound, however, that forced Yuuri to glare out onto the rink at the tall, turtle-necked form that was his husband twirling once, twice... three... four times in the air before landing awkwardly on the ice, a hand touching down to keep his balance.

"Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov!" Yuuri yelled out, slamming his hands down on the barrier. "I thought I told you no more quads!"

Viktor grunted as he righted his posture before turning at the sound. His smile widened into that adorable shape again. "Yuuri!" He opened his arms wide, the lilt in his voice betraying nothing about how he had just done something wrong. He skated over to the barrier and caught a peeved Yuuri in a warm embrace, projecting his apology silently. After a moment, his anger over, Yuuri hugged back.

"My turn! My turn!" Yukiko tugged on Yuuri's jacket insistently.

Viktor pulled himself out of the hug first and leaned over the barrier to heave Yukiko into his arms, despite the protest of all of his limbs and his worried husband. He ignored both in favor of bear-hugging his daughter.

"Радость моя!" Viktor cooed with a slight strain in his voice. "You ready to skate with Mikhail now? I think he's got his part down perfect!"

"Yeah!" Yukiko tried to jump out of his arms onto the rink, but Viktor held firm.

"Hmm," Viktor put a finger to his mouth in mock contemplation, "I don't think you are. Do I see blades underneath those slippers?"

Yuuri realized he'd never made Yukiko put on her shoes before they left. He scolded himself under his breath. He really shouldn't have to remind his ten-year-old daughter to put on her boots.

"Pa _paaa_!" Yukiko drawled with a giggle. "Can you help me put them on?"

"Да, да, хорошо," Viktor acquiesced before facing Yuuri again. "Can you watch Mikhail's piece? He won't say so, but I'm sure he's been aching to show you."

Yuuri smirked, knowing exactly who Mikhail took after. The boy wasn't necessarily shy, just indirect. It didn't bother Yuuri, but Viktor often had to tickle the answers out of his son to get anywhere. The boy was out on the ice right now, circling around and around, practicing his backwards crossovers. He had his tongue stuck out between his lips in concentration and his blue eyes were burning fire into his feet.

Yuuri watched from the bleachers as he tied up his own skates, admiring Mikhail's pout when he slid out of his crossover wrong. His focus would be impossible to break unless Yuuri were to stand right in front of him. He tried it again, switching out into a mohawk turn and back into the crossovers.

But on this next loop around, just as Yuuri was stepping out onto the ice and skating nonchalantly forward, Mikhail spun out of his crossover into a three turn. Yuuri recognized the entrance from years of muscle memory, and he felt his muscles coil at the same time Mikhail dug his pick into the ice and took off. Yuuri only relaxed when Mikhail spun out of the single toe loop and landed with a fancy flourish only flaunted by a Nikiforov.

Yuuri was going to clap, but then Mikhail spun around and did the jump again. This time there were two rotations, which he also landed similarly. It was beautiful, and Yuuri almost didn't want to interrupt him.

But he had to before Yukiko started taking over the rink. "Mishka! _Beautiful toe loop! You've come a long way since last year,_ " Yuuri used his Russian nickname more often than not, in part because it was easier for him to say that instead of 'Mikhail' and because Viktor rarely called him that anyway.

Mikhail skated in a tight circle around his father before coming to a skidded stop, hugging around his waist tightly. " _Tou-chan! You really think so? Papa says I could even try a triple!_ "

Yuuri frowned. " _I think your Papa gets a little too excited about skating,_ " he spared a glance at his husband, who was currently chasing Yukiko across the bleachers. She was waving her arms around, her skates shaking in her little fists. Their laughter floated and echoed across the rink.

Mikhail furrowed his brows. " _Papa's Japanese is funny sounding, though. He's hard to understand sometimes. The only thing I can tell he's talking about_ is _skating!_ "

Yuuri chuckled, stooping down to Mikhail's level. "That sounds like your father, alright."

Mikhail's Japanese was as natural as Yuuri's, much to the chagrin of his Russian father. Mikhail's Russian was fine, and he talked to Viktor with it as much as he could, but it was still a work in progress. He was better than Yuuri, that's for sure. Viktor wouldn't let his husband live it down that both his kids were better at Russian pronunciation, the three of them constantly ganging up on him to pick on a word or an awkward-sounding sentence. Their English was as good as their fathers', though they were far better than their classmates in school by comparison.

It was the mix of the three, Russo-Japa-nglish, which the twins came up with, that made Yuuri and Viktor worry. And rightfully so. Their children were known to scheme and prank, particularly with the help of Chihiro, their female poodle puppy that Viktor couldn't have resisted even if he tried.

Thankfully, neither child was using it today. That meant things were safe, right? Yuuri hoped so as Mikhail wrapped his arms around his neck, hiding his face in Yuuri's collar. He reciprocated the hug with a kiss to the cheek.

"Well," Yuuri stood back up and gave his son a reassuring pat, "can you show me what you've learned with Papa so far?"

Mikhail nodded, his eyes as determined as ever. He skated off to the CD player that stood on the edge of the barrier and switched the songs and paused. As he turned back, Yuuri thought he saw a similar silhouette in his son, one that reminded him again of Viktor. It was in times like this he was glad they used Viktor's DNA directly, instead of Yuuri's. Of course, there were pieces of him in them, but it was more subdued, hinted at in the subtle way they carried themselves, how they blushed when they were embarrassed, how they loved with all their hearts on the ice, without misinterpretation.

Then the song started and Mikhail began his routine. It was swift, fleeting, but calm and sure. His arms were raised, a little shaky on his tight spin, but he pulled out of it with his free leg in the right place. Yuuri's attention was kept on the music, how Mikhail moved with it, almost making it his own. His sit spin was perfect, his blade circling the ice in a tight pivot. Then a wide crossover, three turn, and then out into his double toe loop. He was a tad off beat after the jump, but it looked like he was trying to correct it. He slowed his spread eagle for a beat and went back into his step sequence, each tap and glide back on track. Not wanting to break his son's concentration, Yuuri nodded to himself. There were still three more jumps: single salchow, double toe loop and single loop combo, then a double flip at the end.

Mikhail finished off the song with a longer combination spin, but he was going too fast and his last stance was slightly off, his balance teetering for a moment. He was breathing a little too hard, his chest wheezing and sputtering unevenly. Yuuri, with 10 years worth of preparation, came up to him and put a hand on his back between the shoulder blades as he pulled out an inhaler from his jacket pocket. Mikhail took it gratefully, puffing twice and holding it in for as long as he could, then huffed cold air back out.

" _Are you okay, Mishka?_ " Yuuri asked once Mikhail seemed to have his breathing under control.

Mikhail nodded. " _I messed up, though. I was so focused on landing my jumps so much that I messed up. I'm sorry, Tou-chan,_ " Mikhail whimpered, trying not to sniffle.

" _Hey, hey,_ " Yuuri whispered gently, smoothing over Mikhail's bangs that had come out of place while he was skating. He had the same part in his hair as Viktor's, and sometimes Yuuri liked to point out to his husband that Mikhail had beautifully thick hair just to tease. But right now, Mikhail looked more like Yuuri than Viktor. " _It's okay, Mishka,_ " Yuuri placated, " _it was still really good. Did Papa help you out with your jumps? You're landing them so much better. I'm so proud of you._ "

Mikhail practically glowed, his eyes shimmering pools of mirth.

"Отлично!" Viktor called out from across the rink behind them. "Awesome job, Mishka! You're free leg on the combo was a little sloppy, though. Do it again!"

"Papa!" Mikhail whined. "You told me it was all good!"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Viktor waved dismissively. "I'm going to have Yukiko warm up though, so go over the other choreography while you wait, okay?"

Mikhail lit up immediately. He was about to agree and skate off when his mouth went slack, complete surprise taking over his features. Puzzled, Yuuri turned to face his husband to find that Yukiko had glided onto the rink, and _not_ in her sweats.

" _Tou-chan_! Mishka! Look!" Yukiko twirled before colliding into her brother, smothering him in hugs. "Our outfits came in!"

She was wearing a simple black satin dress that wrapped over one shoulder with several oblong rhinestones decorating one side. There was black mesh in place at her waist that made the dress look like a two-piece and the hem of the bottom was a deep crimson. Her hair was gathered up in a high ponytail with a wispy black hair piece that gathered at the crown of her head. It looked suspiciously like...

Yuuri skated over to Viktor, who was leaning on the side of the rink. Yuuri felt bitter confusion wash over him, tinged with accusation. "Viktor... can you tell me exactly _why_ Yukiko's dress looks like my _Eros_ costume? She's ten!"

"She looks so pretty, Yuuri!" Viktor emphasized. "And I only paid for it. She picked it out."

"Did Mikhail's come in, too?" Yuuri wondered how similar their costumes were to his old one. Not sure how he felt about it.

"You'll see," Viktor chimed, "I'm having them do a costume rehearsal today."

Yuuri narrowed his eyes but said nothing. Yukiko was enjoying herself in her costume, letting Mikhail pull her around so that it flitted around and shimmered under the lights. They practiced their three turns and crossovers together, each of them doing little jumps and flicks of their skates simultaneously. They came back together and Mikhail led his sister into a single salchow, lifting her lightly off the ground. He'd gotten taller than her in the past year, which made the lifts much easier, and Yukiko paired with her twin evenly. It was like they read each other's minds. It wasn't too farfetched; they pulled pranks in tandem without communication sometimes, and it was rather scary.

Soon Mikhail skated back over to his parents, leaving his sister to practice solo. "Papa, can I go put mine on now?"

"Да," Viktor swung open the barrier door, "it's over there in the box still. Do you need help with the zippers, Mishka?"

"Нет, спасибо, Papa," Mikhail hurried his way over to the bleachers, running awkwardly on his skates over the nonslip texture of the floor.

"Your skate guards!" Viktor warned, crinkling his nose with each step his son took outside the rink, minutely dulling his blades each time.

"They never remember," Yuuri remarked with mild humor, "they need new skates every year, anyway. Don't get so worked up about it."

"But Yuu _uuurriiiii_ ," Viktor whined, much like Mikhail had, "it physically _pains_ me! Like they're walking all over me with their skates!"

"They did just that a couple years ago and you thought it was cute," Yuuri pointed out.

"They were smaller then," Viktor reasoned, "and they weren't in real skates, just the cheap baby ones."

Yuuri stared at his husband, dumbfounded. "You're insufferable."

Viktor turned to his husband with a mischievous look in his eyes as he put his hands on Yuuri's wider hips. "You still love me, звезда моя," he breathed as he pulled closer, pressing his lips to Yuuri's forehead.

"Возможно," Yuuri  pouted, but the Russian word had the opposite effect he intended. Viktor practically squeezed the life out of him, nuzzling their cheeks so tight together that they were squishing their expressions comically. He pressed kisses to Yuuri's nose, cheeks, nose again, lips, and his nose once again, then one last one on his lips, which lasted for a few moments longer. They held each other lovingly. The public physical affection, despite them being the only ones in the rink now, still caused Yuuri's cheeks to redden.

"EWW!" Yukiko and Mikhail shrieked as they hopped back onto the ice, their parents unsuspecting of the massive shove they got from their kids. Their skates, from where their legs had gotten intertwined, clicked into each other and they fell backward onto the ice, earning groans from their lips as well as their bones and muscles.

The kids thought it was hilarious, though, so they joined in. They hobbled over their fathers and claimed a war on tickles, to which Yuuri and Viktor lost honorably. Though they fought with fingers and arms, hugs and raspberries, Yukiko and Mikhail were simply too powerful a force for them. Yuuri and Viktor fell limp, their limbs thumping against the ice and letting the air go still. They closed their eyes and parted their lips, holding their breaths.

Yukiko gasped. "Mishka, stop! Stop!"

"I got the puffer!" Mikhail supplied.

Suddenly there was a plastic cylinder shoved into Yuuri's mouth and he had to cough it out, laughing uncontrollably. "It's okay, it's okay! We're breathing just fine!"

"Yuuri, you were gasping for breath when we fell, Mishka was just trying to help!" Viktor elbowed his husband playfully before propping himself to sit up. "Up, you two. I want to see a flawless performance today!"

Once everyone was untangled, Yuuri and Viktor stood at the barrier gate, Viktor's arm around Yuuri casually. Yukiko and Mikhail were poised, mirroring each other, back to back. Yuuri saw now that Mikhail's costume was indeed similar to Yukiko's, at least in color. The tailoring on the open collared black shirt reminded him of his and Viktor's first exhibition skate together. The red vest didn't close, but was held together by small chains wrapped around the buttons, studded with the same rhinestones that adorned Yukiko's dress. There were two red chains that clung to his right shoulder, cascading down his arm before looping back around. The pants were black with red seams down the outer sides. The twins paired each other perfectly.

They practiced in their costumes for most of their three hour session, taking breaks for water and for Yuuri and Viktor to discuss the choreography a bit more, going through the movements themselves to adjust and readjust. They pointed to each other occasionally, Yuuri talking with his hands to correct something Viktor had done and Viktor holding Yuuri's arms or waist to correct his posture. Their touches and looks lingered a little longer than they needed to, but no one complained.

During their last break before their final rehearsal, Yukiko took Mikhail aside behind the bleachers, Papa's phone clutched in her fingers.

" _Mishka, I found a video from one of their pair skates_ ," Yukiko explained in their Russo-Japa-nglish so that they wouldn't be overheard, scrolling to the video on the phone, " _we've gotta watch it. I bet we could surprise them by learning some of the moves for our competition!_ "

Mikhail frowned. " _Aren't those moves a little too difficult for us right now?_ "

Yukiko sighed and rolled her eyes, starting the video and making sure the volume was low. Otou-chan was out on the ice in a deep blue suit with a transparent overcoat, silver chains tying the front together, his shirt open all the way down his chest. He looked younger, his hair as black as midnight and his skin as smooth and glowing as moonlight splayed over a mountaintop. There was a low, operatic voice that sung to his movements, yearning and longing for something just outside the view of the camera. His jumps were crisp, clear windstorms of majestic beauty.

Then he held out his hand, the lights brightened to an amaranthine purple, and Papa came gliding out to meet him, catching his cheek in a tender caress. The crowds were so loud that the speakers crackled and Yukiko had to lower the volume momentarily so that they weren't caught just yet. Their fathers held hands as they skated back in unison, then Otou-chan pushed his back in front of Papa as they prepared for a lift. From the lift, Otou-chan leaned back, trusting in Papa's arms as he was dipped, his head falling back in complete faith that Papa wouldn't drop him. Papa himself kept his eyes on his partner, bringing him back to switch leads before coming face-to-face again. The tender looks they gave each other were accented by gentle fingers cupping each other's faces. Mikhail quietly pointed to Papa leaning into Otou-chan's touch, to which Yukiko nodded silently.

And on they danced with each other, as if the audience didn't exist, as if the music was in their bones, not blasted through some CD player. Papa lifted Otou-chan, showcasing his love across the ice before landing him gently. They broke apart only to synchronize their movements, still beating as one, creating a singular sound that echoed beyond the tiny cell phone screen. When they came together again, it truly became impossible to tell them apart from the performance. To dissect each person as separate from the other was unthinkable. And when the video suddenly cut out, Yukiko and Mikhail stared at each other for a moment, settling on the same idea in their minds without having to say a word.

* * *

Viktor leaned back against the wall by the curtains that would enter the ice rink ground floor. His suit was pressed just as professional as ever, exuding a more youthful appearance than he felt. The interviewers that were talking to him began to annoy him more as the years wore on, especially now that his children were entering the same competitions he had at their age. It warmed his heart, no mistake in that, but he would always miss the ice. The people that asked him incessant questions about being on the ice? Not so much.

The last time he'd attempted a quad, his ankle had given out. Yuuri wouldn't talk to him for a whole three days afterward because Viktor had broken his rule. He could still handle most triples, but at his age he really shouldn't be jumping much longer unless he wanted to lose his legs. That was probably being overdramatic, but Yuuri certainly would agree that Viktor would be losing _something_ if he did anymore quads.

But for now, he focused on his children. It was about them now. Them and the gold medals that hung around their necks tonight. They had won their junior titles in their singles events and were asked to perform a small exhibition piece. They requested to go together, using their free skate costumes that matched. The interviewers just then had asked how long they had been practicing this particular piece that they would see tonight. Viktor answered accordingly until he saw Yuuri come out of the dressing area with Yukiko and Mikhail in tow, their Japan-sponsored sports jackets hiding their costumes.

"Yuuri!" Viktor always called out first. "Mishka! Yukiko!" Viktor ran over to his family, his face beaming.

After one last group huddle, they pulled each other into a hug, kissing cheeks and foreheads to help them realize the pressure was over.

"And I thought just Katsudon and the old man together were disgusting," a voice grumbled behind them. Viktor and Yuuri perked up, immediately recognizing the Russian Punk that never quite grew up.

"Uncle Yurio!" Yukiko and Mikhail perked up, breaking the contact with their parents and running to barrel themselves into Yuri Plisetsky's 28-year-old body with an audible _oof_.

"Oi! That's not my name!" Yuri groaned, but there was the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips as he looked down at the twins. "Get off of me," he scolded half-heartedly, not really meaning it as he patted their backs.

"We thought you were still in Russia!" Mikhail cried out in disbelief.

"Yeah," Yukiko pounded a tiny fist into Yuri's stomach, "you liar! You're not allowed to watch us skate 'cause you lied!"

"He may have lied," Otabek appeared around the corner, "but I didn't. Can I see you two skate?"

"Uncle Beka!" Yukiko immediately forgot about Yuri and ran into Otabek's waiting arms. Viktor couldn't help the smirk that played on his lips as he brought Yuuri to his side. Otabek and Yuri had finally gotten around to dating a few years back, but it had been very roundabout, more so than he and Yuuri had been, which was a feat in itself. But they seemed to be steady, and neither had a problem with being called Uncles. Well, Yuri would say otherwise, but everyone knew he was secretly happy about it.

Mikhail stayed stuck to Yuri's side. Viktor would never say anything, but he knew Mikhail was Yuri's favorite because the kid looked so much like Yuuri. Inspiration isn't trite; it's a feeling, an emotion that left permanent marks on the soul, lasting for a lifetime. It also probably meant something particularly potent since this was Yuri's last year before retirement, he'd been told last time he talked with his old rinkmate.

Mikhail opened his jacket to show his uncle the costume, a motion which Yukiko copied in equal excitement. Yuri glanced speculatively at their costumes. "Are these...?"

"Viktor said they chose it, apparently," Yuuri answered, sneaking an evil glare in Viktor's direction. A chuckle rumbled deep in Viktor's chest as he held his husband tighter, never one to reveal his secrets. It was true that he'd let them choose the costumes, but the options hadn't exactly been all that varied. Guilty as charged, but innocent until Yuuri actually voiced the accusation.

"I don't doubt it for a second," Yuri commented knowingly.

Soon, the commentators were calling attention to the crowd. The interviewers had gone to sit rinkside, setting up their cameras for the exhibition skates. Yuuri went with Yuri and Otabek to the stands while Viktor took the twins over to the entryway. Yukiko and Mikhail were calming their breathing, counting off their inhales and exhales so that they could regain their focus. It was a trick that Yuuri had taught them, using his own anxiety as a reference point. Viktor checked over their costumes for any tears or malfunctions, smoothing the folds and combing through each head of hair with the utmost care. He put lip balm on their lips and drew them in close, his hands on the back of their heads over his shoulders.

Viktor took a deep breath. For himself, for Yuuri, for Yukiko, for Mikhail. For all of them together. His chest was tight, full of love for the small beings in his arms. It felt like yesterday he had held them outside of their incubators, small, weak, and wholly beautiful. He remembered each time he held them, fed them, played with them. He remembered Makkachin taking care of them until the poodle's last breath. He remembered when they first talked (and subsequently _never_ told Yukiko what her first word had been because he would never hear the end of it), first walked, when they first _skated_. The four of them had their hands held tight, pulling them up and pushing them along until they felt sure of their footing. Images of slow, lazy circles around the rink filled his mind. It made those years of skating alone, his retirement, his getting too old to skate to his fullest anymore, his every insecurity, melt away to nothing.

"Я люблю вас обоих," Viktor managed, his throat thick. "Otou-chan and I will be watching."

Yukiko and Mikhail pulled back from him at the same time. "Keep your eyes on us, okay?" They said in unison.

Viktor, the parent who never said no to anything they asked, would continue to do just that. "Wouldn't have it any other way. _Good luck_ ," he added in Japanese before sending them off through the curtain. After taking a moment to collect himself, he donned his coaching mask and followed after them.

* * *

Yuuri sat higher up in the bleachers next to Yurio (he had never been able to stop calling him that, and for the kids' sake, it was simply stuck) while Otabek sat behind. Yurio was leaning back against Otabek's knees and Otabek's arms were wrapped around Yurio's shoulders almost carelessly.

"Oi, Katsudon," Yurio broke Yuuri from his thoughts with a light shrug against his shoulder, "why are you nervous? You're not the one skating this time. You know that, right?"

"Hmm? Yeah," Yuuri realized his leg had been shaking involuntarily and had to make a conscious effort to stop it, "it's their first time performing as a pair. I guess I'm just scared one or both of them might get hurt."

"Why the hell would the children of two of the greatest skaters mess something up that badly?" Yurio asked like it was an insult, but Yuuri understood what he'd meant.

"You think Viktor and I are great?" He prodded.

" _Were_ ," Yurio corrected before he added the inevitable: "shut up."

Yuuri could settle for that response. It was comfortable and reliable to know that they meant enough to Yurio to make him embarrassed to admit it. After Yuuri opened his eyes from the responding smile he'd given, he saw two golden rings shine briefly off of Yurio's and Otabek's fingers.

"Congratulations," Yuuri whispered.

Yurio grunted his reply, something between a 'thanks' and another 'shut up.'

" _Attention fans, friends, family, and skaters,_ " the speakers boomed suddenly, " _tonight concludes the end of all of our events! For our junior ladies, Yukiko Katsuki-Nikiforov took home her first gold medal, following in the footsteps of her parents, former gold medalists themselves. Her twin brother, Mikhail Katsuki-Nikiforov, also walked away with his own gold medal tonight. Right now, give them a welcoming round of applause as they perform their exhibition piece together!_ "

Yuuri felt his nerves returning with such blunt force that he didn't even register that he had been clapping. His hands were clammy as they clasped together when the twins skated out onto the ice, gliding around the full rink with tiny flourishes before they took their stances. It was suddenly hard to swallow.

" _In a sudden change of program music,_ " the speakers continued, causing Yuuri and Viktor to look upwards in shock from their opposing positions in the venue, " _they have decided to dedicate this performance to their parents, Viktor and Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov. The former is a five-time Worlds champion and the latter a GPF gold medalist and the former top skater of Japan! They told us that throughout their lives, their parents have been with them, supporting them, skating with them, without fail. They wish to express their gratitude to the love they all share here tonight. Now they shall skate to their parents' first pair skate song, 'Stay Close to Me.'_ "

Yuuri swore his jaw dropped through the center of the Earth once the piano notes stung the air. The spotlight was on Yukiko, cold and hard, as she waved her body through the motions. It was the same program that Yuuri and Viktor had put together for them, but some movements were slower, grander, matching the music beat for beat. Then she geared up for her first jump and─

─ she landed a triple toe loop. She landed. A triple. Toe loop. Yuuri gaped, and if he wasn't mistake, he heard a cursed gasp escape Yurio's lips. He was sure Viktor would reprimand her later for doing a jump she wasn't supposed to be ready for, but he also had a funny feeling that neither Viktor nor him would be in the coaching mood.

She landed two other single jumps, ones that Yuuri hadn't named because the overwhelming reveal was still shaking his core. The colors changed, becoming a brighter, lighter, warmer color as Mikhail joined his sister in the same way Viktor had done to him, all those years ago.

They skated together, a mixture of their choreography that Viktor and Yuuri had put together and of the original duet's choreography. The dip at the beginning of the song's namesake mimicked their parents exactly, positioned properly like they had practiced it for years. Yuuri, somewhere in the back of his mind, wondered when they had hatched this idea in their devilish minds and when they could have _possibly_ practiced this without him or Viktor noticing. They had never even shown their kids this pair skate before. How did they find it?

Whatever the answer, Yuuri couldn't look away. Mikhail and Yukiko danced around each other, a playful, soulful, loving dance between themselves for their parents to witness. The tender crescendos pulsated with the pair's lilts and lifts, the air thundering, reverberating with their intricate story. They weaved in and out, spun and skipped, baring their emotions to the world. Yuuri hadn't noticed his tears until the twins' outlines began to blur and waver.

Meeting Viktor at the banquet, at the hot springs, and on the ice, each flashed through his mind. His eyes of sea glass mosaics stayed a constant in each picture, each memory. His gentle praises, his harsh criticisms, his blatant remarks, all whispered into his ears. The times when their bodies were closest, each touch electrifying and soothing all at once, forced his chest to swell with feelings too grandiose to describe.

Telling Viktor he wanted to start a family paused in his flashback longer than the others. That moment, solidified in existence on the ice before them, pushed Yuuri over the edge. Tears spilled over his cheeks and he didn't want to stop them, not that he could have in the first place.

Each hardship, large and small, clutched at his heart. Through the countless trials of trying to make the surrogacy work, through all their fights and misunderstandings, through the _pain_ at the thought of losing one of the twins before they got the chance to meet them, they had stood above it all. The proof was there for the world to see.

Yuuri bolted upright and ran down the stands in between the throngs of audience members before he could understand completely what it was he was doing. The wetness that now covered his face blurred his vision further, so much so that his glasses were entirely useless. He pushed his way through the doors and past the rink personnel, barging his way through the curtains and down to the ground floor where Viktor stood stock still at the barrier.

The song ended, the twins were poised together, Mikhail frozen in a dip with Yukiko waving a hand over her face as she let her head fall backward, one leg held daintily in the air to parallel Mikhail's free arm. From this distance, though it was difficult, one could see that they were panting heavily from exertion.

"Viktor!" Yuuri's voice, thick with tears of too many emotions, broke and he clamped a hand over his mouth instinctively, wanting to hide the effect this was having on him.

Viktor turned at the sound of his husband. Yuuri gasped, seeing his own fat tears reflected on Viktor's face. He was struggling to keep his shoulders from shaking, but to no avail. It didn't take a stroke of genius for Yuuri to figure out that Viktor had understood the exact same story their kids had given them. They stared at each other for a moment, the waves of applause drowning out any other sound in the venue.

After an agonizing moment, Viktor held out his arms, the quiet desperation in his features painfully obvious. "Yuuri..."

Yuuri ran into his arms without a second thought, staining his former coach's jacket with his salty tears. If the announcers were saying anything, if the overhead monitors showed cameras pointed at the couple's embrace, if Yurio was barfing in the corner from the pair's affections, if the barrier squeaked open as their children came off the ice, Viktor and Yuuri didn't hear any of it.

" _I love you,_ Yuuri," Viktor sounded like he had been broken, built back together, and broken all over again. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

"Я люблю тебя, Витя," Yuuri managed to sob out before Viktor brought their faces together and kissed him with every intention of shattering their hearts to pieces once again.

Yukiko and Mikhail joined them, worming their way in between their parents and breaking the kiss.

"What did you think, Papa? Otou-chan?" Yukiko panted breathlessly.

"Are─ you─ proud─ of us?" Mikhail coughed between his words, and Yuuri somehow had the wherewithal to dig the inhaler out of his pocket. Mikhail took his puffs and stuffed the medicine back into his father's jacket.

Viktor and Yuuri, for lack of words that would have been useless anyway, collapsed to the floor. The twins were left standing, wondering whether or not they should do something─ get help? But both decided against it and met their parents on the floor, encompassing them in the greatest, longest-lasting, most unconditional love; a love that was a combination of all the love in the world plus some, more than the sum of its parts. Together, they were a family.

A family with hearts of gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. That's it. That's the end. It's DONE.
> 
> But there's so much more I want to do??? I have a few ideas and I want your opinions! Since I don't have a Tumblr, I don't really have a way to interact with you all. So I guess the first question is should I finally cave and make myself an inescapable priso─ I mean Tumblr? I don't want to sink all my time into it because I have a 100+ page thesis to complete within the next two months, but I've been thinking about it for awhile. I want to be able to interact with this fandom so much more because you all are just so great. If I do end up making it, I'll edit my comments to you guys with the link if you want? Or I'll post it in another story I do. I don't know. I don't want to spam. I hate spam, tech and meat both.
> 
> ANYWAY, my real question is as follows, because I'm trying to make this note as small as possible: below is a list of fic ideas I've been working on, and I want you all to tell me which you'd want to see, whether as another long fic, a one-shot, or a long one-shot.
> 
> Soulmate 'True Name' AU (One person relinquishes their true name to the one they love and the first person's name and a timer will be etched into the other's skin. They have one year to reciprocate. If they reciprocate, they will reveal their true name as well. But if it turns out the two are not soulmates, the reciprocation would kill them both. If they are soulmates, but do not reciprocate within the year, the first person to reveal their true name will die. It would follow canon timeline with some divergence.)
> 
> Surfer/Lilo&Stitch AU (Yuuri as Nani, Viktor as David, Yurio as Lilo and Otabek as Stitch? It'd be very loosely based, if at all. Or Yuuri could be a surfing instructor and Viktor and Yurio are visiting Hawaii on vacation. Or some amalgamation of those ideas.)
> 
> Blind/Deaf/Mute AU (Viktor is a deaf and mute figure skater and Yuuri was a skater until an accident blinded him. They meet in a hospital support group, practically incapable of communicating effectively, and slowly learn how to fall for each other.)
> 
> Wedding fic (to couple with my other anxiety-centered one-shot, but not the same universe but probably part of an anxiety awareness one-shot series?)
> 
> Optional: any ideas you'd want to see? Requests? I'm up to suggestions! :)


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